


The Blur of Lucis

by Ignis_Sassentia



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Prompto Spoilers, General spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Bodily Autonomy, M/M, MT!Prompto, Slow Burn, anxiety (implied), chapter 13 spoilers, cursing, promnised land big bang 2017, self-harm mention, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignis_Sassentia/pseuds/Ignis_Sassentia
Summary: What started out as a road trip with his best friend turned into a blur of chaos and self-discovery—but not the good kind.Prompto has always been afraid he might somehow betray his friends—by not being good enough, or by letting himself be captured by the Empire, or by, well, anything—but he never thought that betrayal might be coded into his DNA. When he starts feeling like he's losing control during battles with magitek soldiers, Ignis is the first to catch on and offer to support him however he can. Learning more about the secret behind the odd behavior and the strange tattoo on Prompto’s wrist leads to dark secrets Prompto had never before considered—secrets that make him question who he really is, and test his newfound relationship with Ignis.





	1. The Blur of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! Here it is! My monster baby for the Promnised Land Big Bang 2017. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my team:  
> [Promptogoth](https://promptogoth.tumblr.com), for edits and motivational screaming  
> [The-Lucian-Archives](https://the-lucian-archives.tumblr.com), for being excited about everything  
> [Amicitiaas](https://amicitiaas.tumblr.com), for the incredible artwork  
> And [Promnised-Land](https://promnised-land.tumblr.com) for organizing everything!

 

Prompto couldn’t sleep. Normally, being squished between Noctis and Ignis in the small tent was warm and comforting. Tonight, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, it felt hot and claustrophobic. And Gladio’s erratic, ground-shaking snores only made things worse. He kept imagining the guttural sounds shaking the tent poles loose, the heavy vinyl crashing down on them, and all four of them suffocating to death.

Because _that_ was definitely a logical thought. Right.

Groaning quietly in an attempt not to wake the others, Prompto sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyelids until all he saw was red, then sighed and let them drop. His bracelets clicked quietly and he automatically checked to make sure they still covered what they needed to cover. Sometimes he missed the stupid sweatband. It had looked dumb, but he’d never been worried it had moved.

His sleeping bag rustled as he crawled carefully out of it and pulled on his boots, but didn’t bother lacing them up. He wasn’t going to go far, after all. Just to the edge of the Haven. Maybe. Probably.

The zipper on the tent door sounded entirely too loud as he inched it down, opening the flap just enough to let him slip out into the cold night. He’d never know how his companions slept through it. Well, Noct could sleep through anything, but Ignis and Gladio were always so alert and on top of everything that Prompto was pretty sure it was a minor miracle they never woke up when he left in the middle of the night.

He zipped the flap back up as quickly as possible and shuffled away from the tent, squinting through the starlit darkness to make sure he didn’t trip over camping chairs or Ignis’ makeshift kitchen. The stars and the glowing runes of the Haven gave enough light to see, he just hadn’t put his contacts back in before leaving the tent. He probably should have. But there was something beautiful about the fuzzy blur of thousands of stars spread across the sky. A distant, twinkling reminder that even imperfection could be breathtaking in the right circumstances.

A reminder that Prompto needed more often than he liked to admit.

Despite the biting chill in the air, he carefully made his way across the campsite and flopped down on the edge of the raised circle. He let his booted feet dangle over the rocks below, heels tapping gently against the cool stone as he stared up at the smear of stars.

It had only been a few days since they’d left Insomnia, and he hadn’t quite gotten used to the sight of so many stars, with or without his contacts. In the city, he’d been lucky to see the brightest constellations beyond the lights and the Wall now and then. But out here, in the middle of nowhere past Hammerhead…well, it was like a completely different world.

A world filled with daemons, and stars, and Ignis’ cooking, and Gladio’s snores. A world without part-time jobs, or study sessions in Noct’s apartment, or after-school arcade visits.

Everything was so different outside the city, and it was only going to get even more foreign once they reached Altissia and Noct got married. Then the arcade with his best friend would be a distant memory for good.

He sighed and lay back against the cold stone, arms folded beneath his head. Maybe that was why he couldn’t sleep. He was already worried about what would happen after the wedding. Sure, he was excited to finally get to meet Lady Lunafreya, but he couldn’t stop wondering what would happen once she moved to Insomnia, once Noct was a married man and ascended the throne as King of Lucis. What would that mean for their friendship? What would it mean for this little adventuring quartet?

Would he go back to an empty house and a shitty part-time job at the sushi joint around the corner? Or would he be allowed to stay on in the Crownsguard even though he could barely hold his own in a fight? Would he still be allowed to be friends with Ignis and Gladio, or would he embarrass them too much in their regal, courtly lives? Would Noct even remember who he was once his life was caught up in ruling the country and producing heirs?

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

Prompto squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to shove the thoughts away. He was supposed to be happy his best friend was getting married, not freaking out about things that might not even happen! Hell, he was supposed to be sleeping, not shivering under the stars while his mind chased itself in circles. But here he was, doing both.

The sound of the tent zipper behind him made him jump. Shit. Had he woken one of the others after all? He scrambled to sit up and scrub dirt out of his hair. Maybe he could just pass it off as a midnight bathroom trip. Or maybe Noctis was sleepwalking again.

“Prompto?” Ignis’ voice called quietly, accompanied by the soft crunch of shoes on loose rock. “Are you quite all right?”

So much for the amusement of sleepwalking Noct.

Prompto made a show of stretching as he turned around with a grin. “Yeah. Just needed some air for a sec. The big guy’s snores are insane tonight. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Ignis made a soft, noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. He was entirely too far away to make out his expression.

Prompto suddenly wished he had put his contacts in before leaving the tent. Maybe he would have been able to at least guess as to what was running through Ignis’ mind at the moment.

Without another word, Ignis closed the distance between them and sat in the dirt beside Prompto, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. He knitted his fingers together over his knee and craned his neck back to look at the sky. The reflections of stars sparkled in the silver frames of his glasses, and the soft blue light of the Haven runes danced along his high cheekbones and full lips.

It took all of Prompto’s self-control not to stare like an idiot. He’d always thought Ignis was handsome, but seeing him in the starlight like this...well, that was almost as much of a new world as the rest of this trip.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and forced his gaze upward again. What was Ignis doing? Why was he sitting so close? Why was he so damn warm in the freezing night?

“Ah,” Ignis said suddenly. He shifted, lifting one arm to trace a shape against the stars. “There’s the Bow of the Clever. See it? Just there.”

Prompto squinted, attempting to find the pattern of stars Ignis was pointing out to him. It was no use without his contacts in; the entire sky was just one big mess of twinkling light. But he felt weirdly self-conscious admitting that. The Bow was one of the constellations he’d almost been able to make out from under the Wall, but he’d never seen it in full. The stars that formed the quarrels were brightest and easy to find. It was just the rest of the Bow that had always evaded him. Of course it was easy to find now, when he couldn’t see anything. “Uh...yeah. I see it.”

There was another long moment of silence.

Prompto felt Ignis’ gaze on him like a hot weight. Embarrassment crept up the back of his neck, tickling like chocobo feathers. What did he do? He refused to look at his companion, instead keeping his fuzzy gaze on the stars as he fidgeted with his bracelets and kicked his heels against the stone.

“Prompto,” Ignis finally said, his voice soft and low, just a hint of a chuckle beneath the single word. “You are the most miserable liar I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

He snapped his head down to blink at Ignis in surprise, the blush making his ears burn. He tried to play it off with an uncomfortable laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. His fingers were _freezing_. “Wow, Iggy, you really know how to make a guy feel good.”

“I meant no insult,” Ignis replied gently. He shifted and one hand--warm and soft and ungloved--brushed against Prompto’s for the briefest of moments. “In fact, it’s quite a...refreshing quality to come across.”

Prompto studied the taller man for a long moment, trying desperately to look past the beautiful lighting on Ignis’ face. Why oh why did he not have his camera? And why was Ignis calling him “refreshing” of all things? His self-defense training for this trip had been mostly physical conditioning, but he knew well enough how much of a liability someone who couldn’t lie could be. Of course, Ignis didn’t know that Prompto had been subtly lying his whole life.

“Yeah...I guess you’re right,” he conceded eventually, stubbornly refusing to allow his brain to go down that road. Not now. Not here. Instead, he forced out another little chuckle and turned back to the sky. Better to squint at the stars than to look at Iggy’s face when he said his next words. “At least you know I’ll never be a spy for the Empire or something, huh?”

That was met with even more silence and Prompto immediately regretting saying it. Way to plant that seed of an idea, _idiot_.

“Your loyalty to Noctis has never been in doubt.” Ignis’ voice was quiet, thoughtful, and Prompto could just imagine that almost-blank look of consideration on his long, delicate face. “Is that truly something you’re concerned with? Being coerced into becoming a Niflheim agent in some capacity?”

Prompto shrugged and pinned his hands between his knees to keep from fidgeting too much. He should have kept his big mouth shut. Too late now. “You said it yourself: I suck at lying. If...I mean, with the treaty and everything, it shouldn’t even be a big deal, right? No problem. Just stupid nightmare stuff, you know?”

Ignis hummed quietly in agreement. He shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, long fingers twisted together once more. “Would you believe I’ve had similar nightmares on occasion? As Noct’s advisor, I’ve been privy to incredibly sensitive information. With the loss of Galahd and the resultant unrest...well, to be quite frank, leaving Insomnia was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done. Should the Empire forgo the truce and manage to capture me or Gladio--or, Astrals forbid, Noct himself--I fear even our extensive training would prove useless in keeping Lucis safe.”

Prompto couldn’t help staring this time. He’d been on the road with Ignis for days, and spent plenty of time with him when he hung out at Noct’s apartment throughout high school, but he was pretty certain that was the most Ignis had ever said outside of a lesson or a lecture. And it was so...intimate. A secret he was sure Ignis had never really meant to share with him. Who would have guessed the ever-collected advisor to the prince actually had insecurities, too? And that they echoed Prompto’s so closely? Of course, Ignis had grown up in the Lucian court, had been born in Insomnia, didn’t have to hide some part of himself he didn’t even understand to keep himself safe. But it was still nice, in a way. Nice to not be _completely_ alone.

“They’re signing the treaty soon,” Prompto muttered, uncertain what else to do except try to convince himself that their fears were stupid. He forced his gaze away from Ignis’ blue-limned profile to stare at the pale, blurry lines of his freckled arms. “After that, we won’t have to worry about it any more. Right?”

“One can hope.”

Ignis’ voice was so soft Prompto almost missed it. He swallowed hard, balling his hands into fists between his knees. Did Ignis know something that made him wary of the treaty? Was he worried something might go wrong? Was this trip more than just escorting Noct to Altissia for his wedding? “Ignis? I...uh…”

“You’re shivering,” Ignis interrupted before Prompto could manage to figure out what he actually wanted to say. The lanky strategist unfolded himself from his seat and stood, delicately brushing dust and dirt off his soft sleeping pants. After a moment, he offered his hand. “Let’s get you back to the tent, shall we? No use you catching cold before we even reach Galdin.”

“Yeah…I guess.” Prompto smiled weakly and let Ignis help him to his feet. Ignis’ hand was warm and soft in his but he didn’t let himself linger, pulling away quickly once he had his balance. He wrapped his arms around his waist in a weak attempt to warm himself a little as he shuffled after Ignis back toward the tent. He could already hear Gladio snoring again. Yeah, sleep was definitely not happening tonight.

As Prompto reached for the tent zipper, Ignis’ soft words made him freeze. “Prompto, a moment.”

He glanced up at the taller man, squinting a little to try and bring his face back into focus. It had been so much easier when they were sitting down, closer to the same height. “Yeah?”

“Should you ever find yourself in need of someone to talk to as we travel, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Despite the cold, despite the lingering feeling that something wasn't quite right, despite everything, Prompto flashed Ignis one of his bright, genuine smiles. It was sweet for Ignis to extend the invitation, even though Prompto knew he probably would never take him up on it. “Thanks. You, too. I mean, not that you’ll ever need to talk to someone like me, with how smart you are and everything, but…uh. I’m just gonna shut up now…”

Ignis chuckled, soft and low, and reached past Prompto to unzip the tent flap. “I’ll be certain to keep the offer in mind.”

Not entirely certain what had just happened, Prompto stood in the freezing night for a long moment, blinking blindly after Ignis. They’d talked before, of course, sometimes even about things beyond Noctis and school work. But there had been something in that moment, sitting under the stars, listening to Ignis’ confession, that had made his heart jump. Then Ignis hadn’t just brushed away that awkward little ramble…

“ _Cold_ ,” Noctis groaned, drawing the single word out until it sounded like a hundred syllables. He shifted in his sleeping bag so he could curl against Gladio’s bulk, which didn’t seem to disturb the bigger man in the slightest.

Prompto muttered an apology and slipped into the tent, zipping it up again behind him. He tugged his boots off and squirmed into his own sleeping bag, hoping the shivers would subside soon.

For as suffocating as the tent had been previously, he found himself suddenly glad for the warmth of Ignis and Noct beside him. Whatever the future held, at least he wasn’t alone for now.


	2. The Blur of Smoke

The news of the fall of Insomnia hit all of them like a hammer to the chest, but they were driving back toward the city before any of them truly had time to absorb what had happened.

Prompto sat curled into a ball in the front passenger’s seat, scrolling through article after article on his phone. All of them said the same thing, just as Ignis had reported earlier that morning. Insomnia was gone. Home was gone. Everything he’d ever known. Gone. Just like that. Overnight. While they were sleeping in the most comfortable beds he’d ever slept in, oblivious. Maybe if they’d been there…

That was stupid. If they’d been there, they’d be just as dead as everyone else. As much as he tried to convince himself that everyone was okay, he knew in his heart that was unlikely. The Empire wasn’t exactly merciful.

The stiff silence in the Regalia was driving him insane, but he didn’t dare turn on music or try to make conversation. He knew that would just be a disaster.

When he finally glanced up from his phone, he noticed Ignis’ hands were shaking on the wheel. His elegant driving gloves creaked gently as he adjusted his grip to shove his glasses further up his nose.

Prompto wished there was something he could say, something he could do, to help ease the tension in everyone’s shoulders. But their home was gone. There weren’t really words for that, no matter how hard he tried.

At least the surprise checkpoint at the entrance to Insomnia provided some distraction. He lifted himself out of his seat and braced himself on the windshield, watching the people in the road. Soldiers, covered from head to toe in shining metal. The sight made him shiver, but there was something about them that seemed…familiar. That only made him shiver more. He unconsciously adjusted his bracelets as he flopped back into his seat, only half-listening to the conversation the others were having. Something about finding another vantage point to see the city with their own eyes.

The car started moving again, rumbling off the edge of the road. Ignis’ hands were shaking worse now, but Prompto didn’t dare comment on it.

It felt like moving through honey when they finally climbed out of the car and started the trek up the hill. Everything felt too slow, too distant, too calm. He could smell the acrid smoke of the burning city when the wind shifted. It made his stomach turn.

“Damnit!” Noctis’ curse was low and rough, but enough to snap Prompto back into the moment. The prince’s Engine Blade appeared in his hand with a flash of blue light and, before Prompto even really knew what was happening, Noct had warped further up the hill, slamming his blade into a suit of armor with a sickening crunch.

“What the…” Prompto summoned his pistols and sprinted after his friend.

“Magitek soldiers,” Ignis muttered, voice tight and strained as he kept pace with Prompto.

Gladio growled as he overtook Prompto and Ignis, his broadsword appearing in his hand. “Won’t be for long.”

The shriek of metal on metal made Prompto wince. He scrambled onto a crumbling wall and took aim at one of the armored figures near Noct, but he hesitated with his finger on the trigger. Despite all those weeks of self-defense, despite all the monsters they’d killed between here and Galdin, there was something sickening about actually shooting at _people_. Targets, sure. Wild animals that wanted to eat them? No problem. But humanoid things in armor that might or might not have actually been human? That was a different story altogether.

“Prompto!” Gladiolus shouted over the sound of the sudden battle. “Behind you!”

How the hell could a hunk of metal move so quietly?! Prompto whirled around and screamed as he came face-to-face with a mechanical soldier, a weird, sparking weapon on its arm aimed straight at Prompto’s chest. For a second, Prompto thought he saw something behind the glowing red eyes. Something that looked… _like him_.

The retort of his own gun made him jump. He lost his footing on the wall, tumbling backward, and hit the ground hard. Somehow, he managed to roll back to his feet and bring his gun up again. The soldier who’d surprised him lay crumpled on the other side of the low wall. No blood. Weird. Okay…maybe the MTs weren’t human after all. That made things a little easier. Well, easier as long as he didn’t think about why the others didn’t seem to have problems with the fight. Luckily, he didn’t have a whole lot of room to think as another soldier lumbered forward.

There were only a handful of MTs, but it felt like the battle went on forever. Noctis warped from one target to the next so fast it would have made Prompto dizzy if he’d tried to follow him. Ignis’ daggers flew, marking targets for the prince, followed by broad sweeps from a lance. Gladio’s huge sword arched back and forth, slicing through metal armor like they were just blades of grass. Prompto’s pistols cracked out, but he wasn’t entirely certain that most of his shots hit. He’d have to work on that.

Finally, the four of them managed to dispatch the small knot of soldiers.

Prompto dispersed his guns and doubled over, bracing himself on his knees as he caught his breath.

“Are you all right?” Ignis’ hand landed softly on Prompto’s shoulder. It wasn’t shaking any more.

Prompto nodded and gulped in another lungful of air before straightening, smiling as best he could even though he didn’t feel like it. “Yeah…fine. Let’s go.”

Noct and Gladio were already further up the hill, nearly out of sight behind the ruins of whatever building had been here before. Prompto tried not to wonder if it had been ruins before the attack, or if Niflheim had destroyed it as he hurried after his friends. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember what the gate had looked like when they left. He’d been so excited about the trip, about finally seeing the world outside the Wall, that he hadn’t really paid attention. Now he’d never get another chance.

The smell of smoke grew thicker as they made their way uphill. It seemed to hang in the air, making Prompto’s eyes water. Home. That was the smell of home burning.

True to Ignis’ assumption, the hill provided a fantastic overlook over the city. Or what remained of it. The four of them stood in the tall grass, staring hopelessly at the smoldering ruins across the river. Black smoke still billowed into the sky, blurring what used to be the tall, proud skyline into ghostly towers. None of them said a word for a long time.

“We should check the news channels,” Ignis muttered eventually, his hand frozen in the act of pushing up his glasses, concealing half his face. “See if there have been any new developments.”

“G-got it.” Prompto dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped the radio app.

“…All provisional terms have been suspended in light of recent developments.” The announcer’s voice sounded so calm and collected. How could she be so chill about this? Insomnia was gone! “Moreover, in the wake of the news of King Regis’ death, we’ve now received word that Crown Prince Noctis and the Oracle Lunafreya have also been pronounced dead.”

Prompto’s stomach twisted again. He moved to turn his phone off.

“Keep it on!” Gladio bellowed, making Prompto jump and fumble the phone completely.

It hit the ground in a splatter of mud and bounced away, the radio turning itself off.

Prompto scrambled after it, but froze as Noct yelled, too.

“Don’t bother!”

He stood completely frozen for a moment, hand outstretched to grab his phone, and stared up at his friend. His heart thudded so hard in his chest he was afraid it might shatter him apart. He was used to Gladio shouting, but Noct yelling…that just felt like it had pulled whatever solid ground he had left straight out from under him. He gulped and forced himself to move again, crouching down and reaching for the phone.

Ignis found it first. He squatted down beside Prompto without looking away from his own screen and handed over the fallen phone. Mud speckled the fingertips of his silver gloves. His long face was completely expressionless.

That was probably the worst part about all this: that Prompto could see his friends suffering, but all of them felt like they had to hold it together for the others, and there was nothing he could do about it. He hated not being able to do anything to help.

An Imperial dreadnought flew overhead, whipping the rain into stinging bullets.

Prompto wasn’t sure if Noct’s phone had rung or if the prince had dialed himself, but by the time the airship had passed, he was listening intently to the call, pacing back and forth.

For the first time, Ignis pulled his gaze away from his screen, glancing at Gladio with just the barest hint of a question in his eyes.

Gladio mouthed a single word that Prompto didn’t quite catch, but Ignis’ shoulders straightened incrementally.

Noctis’ conversation was short and terse, but didn’t seem to take the edge off at all.

“What did the Marshal have to say?” Ignis’ voice came out quiet and flat.

Prompto hugged himself, holding his breath. Cor had made it. Maybe that meant the king had, too. Maybe there were more survivors than they’d first thought. Sure, it was Cor _the Immortal_ , but…maybe there was still hope.

“Said he’d be in Hammerhead,” Noctis replied after a long moment. He didn’t turn away from the burning city, barely moved at all.

Prompto glanced between all three of his friends as Gladio paced closer. Tension hung in the air almost as thick as the smoke from Insomnia drifting across the river. There was another question that needed answering. One Prompto didn’t want to ask.

Gladio asked it for him. “And the king?”

The silence that followed was answer enough.


	3. The Blur of Rain

Three days later, they sprung for a camper at a rest stop not far from Alstor Slough, despite Ignis’ concerns over their diminishing gil. Prompto was insanely glad for the chance at a real shower—well, if “real shower” included lukewarm water, a stall barely big enough for him (gods, how had Gladio even fit?!), and staring at the mold growing on the wall.

Still, it was better than freezing in a river somewhere, or trying to wash off with that awful dry camp soap Gladio swore by.

By the time he had scrubbed his skin red and raw, dried off with the thin towel, and pulled on a clean pair of pants, he could hear Gladio and Noct’s voices outside and Ignis muttering to himself in the tiny kitchenette.

Prompto wiped steam off the cracked mirror and froze as he caught sight of the stark black barcode on the back of his pale, freckled wrist. Twenty years of hiding it, trying to ignore it, purposefully shoving aside questions about it. He’d gotten incredibly good at that. But tonight, after days of fighting MTs, even more awful news from the Empire, watching Noctis claim the first of the Royal Arms—the barcode felt like a brand, impossible to ignore as it burned against his skin.

Where had it come from? What did it mean? Why did he have it when no one else in Lucis seemed to have one? What would the others think if they saw it? Was it somehow connected to those weird flashes he kept getting when he looked into the eyes of a magitek soldier? Were those fears about becoming a Niflheim spy more than just nightmares?

No. No, he wasn’t working for the Empire. He was Lucian. He always had been.

Right?

Gritting his teeth against the self-loathing that bubbled up in his chest, threatening to choke him, he slapped his bracelets back on both wrists. No one knew. He was okay. It was just some dumb tattoo.

He sucked in a deep breath, yanked a new tank top over his head, and slipped out of the bathroom. His legs felt weirdly wobbly as he picked his way around their collection of dusty bags and abandoned clothes, but he grinned all the same. “Hey, Iggy, what’s for dinner?”

“Assuming the stove deigns to work properly, green soup curry,” Ignis replied distractedly, fiddling with the knobs on the ancient stove.

Prompto’s eyes widened in surprise, his spine straightening just a little. Ignis was making one of his favorites for dinner? He normally made Noct’s favorites or something simple when they rented an RV. “R-really?”

“Indeed.” Ignis glanced over his shoulder for a second, eyes unreadable behind his glasses, then just as quickly returned to attempting to coax the stove into life. Finally, a weak little flame jumped up beneath the burner and Ignis straightened, shaking his wrists out as he shifted to the side to continue chopping Allural Shallots.

Prompto watched him for a moment, waiting for something else, some reason why Ignis had decided to make curry. When the silence stretched a little too long for comfort, Prompto sighed and flopped onto the hard little couch, picking his phone up off the armrest where he’d set it before his shower. It sounded like Gladio and Noct were training outside, so he might as well play a little _King’s Knight_ while Ignis cooked. Keep his mind occupied, at least. Keep it from going back to those dark places he kept locked up so tightly.

“I’m aware it isn’t my place,” Ignis said quietly as the loading bar crawled agonizingly slowly across Prompto’s screen, “but you haven’t seemed quite yourself these last few days. Is everything…all right?”

Prompto bit his lip. All right? No, nothing was all right. Insomnia was gone. They were running around the country looking for Royal Arms. Most of Lucis still thought Noct was dead, and no one knew where Lunafreya was. Every day, the Empire increased its hold on the countryside, making it more difficult to get around without constantly fighting MTs. The only good news they’d had recently was hearing that Iris, Talcott, and Jared had made it out of the city before it was too late. But he wasn’t going to explode at Ignis. Ignis, who was just trying to be nice.

Instead, he looked up, smiled for a second, and returned his gaze to watching the game load. “Yeah. Just tired, you know? Should be back to normal tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep on anything besides the ground.”

“Prompto.”

The firm, warning note in Ignis’ voice made Prompto reluctantly look up from his phone screen again. He had heard that tone hundreds of times when Noctis was trying to shirk homework or princely duties, or trying to avoid eating vegetables. It was the tone that meant Ignis was incredibly unamused, and the expression he found on the taller man’s face echoed that sentiment louder than words ever could. Those piercing green eyes studying him over the rims of Ignis’ glasses nearly sent a shiver down Prompto’s spine.

Somehow, he managed another smile. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

The glasses slid incrementally further down Ignis’ nose.

Prompto gulped despite himself. He suddenly realized how Noct must have felt during all those lectures. Then again, Noct had had ages to build up a defense to that patient, disappointed gaze. This was the first time Prompto could remember having it aimed in his direction. “Wh-what?”

“As far as I’m aware, you’re the only one who hasn’t properly begun to mourn Insomnia.” The words were quiet and matter-of-fact.

All the same, they hit Prompto like a fist to the gut. Ignis had noticed he’d been avoiding that? Of _course_ Ignis had noticed. Ignis noticed everything. All the time. No matter how good he thought he was at hiding it. How many times had Ignis found him and Noct hiding somewhere just because the man was that damn good at figuring things out? It was a joke to believe he could have hidden something from those sharp eyes.

Especially when it was so _freaking obvious_. Noct had shouted a bit, punched some things, cried himself to sleep once or twice. Gladio had started training himself harder than ever, burned some things in the campfire, buried the ashes the next morning. Ignis had completely disappeared for the better part of a day and come back with an armful of new potions and a straighter spine.

But Prompto? He’d just been focused on making everyone smile again, however he could.

He spluttered and coughed, trying to catch his breath and force words out of his mouth. What could he possibly say? Finally, he managed a weak, “It’s nothing. Seriously. I’m fine.”

Ignis maintained that disappointed stare for a long moment before finally pushing his glasses back up his nose and turning back toward the stove. “Remember what I said at the Haven a week ago?”

“Yeah…” How could he have forgotten that beautiful, freezing night under the stars, before everything had gone wrong?

“Far be it from me to demand anything, but perhaps after dinner, you might consider making good on my offer?” Ignis kept his voice soft, gentle under the sounds of the knife on the cutting board and the sizzle as the pot of water heated over the little flame.

Prompto wanted to protest, to again insist that he was alright and didn’t need to talk. But if he’d really been that off his game, maybe…maybe Ignis was right.

Still. The thought of putting his feelings into words, forcing them into some coherent shape, was overwhelming. He’d never really had someone to talk things through with before. Noct was a good listener, sure, but there were still things he’d never tell his best friend. After all, Noct was the prince—well, the king, now—he had enough on his plate without worrying about Prompto’s insecurities and nightmares and irrational fears. Especially with Niflheim breathing down their necks.

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching his phone screen fade to black with his inactivity. Talk to Ignis. He could do that. Couldn’t he? Well, he could at least try. “Yeah…um. That sounds good. Just…maybe not around Noct and Gladio? I don’t…I don’t want to worry them.”

“Certainly.” Ignis nodded without turning away from his cooking. “We might take a little jaunt into the Slough, if you’d like. As long as we stay along the road, we should avoid any daemon activity.”

“Sounds great.” Prompto’s voice sounded hollow even to his own ears and he quickly flipped his phone back on, desperate to distract himself from the impending conversation of doom.

Soon enough, Gladiolus and Noctis slammed into the caravan, shattering the tense silence.

Prompto clung to the noise, chattering with his friends and convincing them to play a few rounds of _King’s Knight_ with him while Ignis finished dinner. Gladio chose a character type he rarely played, leaving Prompto and Noct to save him from digital enemies more than anything else, but the Shield agreed to let them lord it over him the next time they trained, so it seemed like a fair trade.

By the time Ignis pried them all away from their phones and shoved chipped caravan bowls of curry into their hands, Prompto had managed to calm his nerves enough to eat without spilling everywhere. And, damn, was it good. Ignis really knew how to spoil a guy. When had he learned just how spicy Prompto liked it?

He couldn’t help but sneak glances at Ignis as they ate, the conversation turning to Lestallum and what they might find there when they arrived. The advisor was always so composed, so elegant. For a while, Prompto had thought he was distant, even. But as they’d spent more time together in those years leading up to this trip, he’d realized Ignis’ aloofness was just part of his way of caring. Keeping himself calm and cool allowed him to better look after his friends, give Noct advice, and think his way out of any situation.

It was, honestly, something Prompto kind of envied. He knew Ignis felt things—he’d seen the man’s hands shaking as they drove back to the ruins of Insomnia—but those emotions were always so tightly under wraps, so controlled. Prompto’s feelings were always on the surface, readable to anyone who cared to look, and he’d never figured out how to hide them. He’d just gotten insanely good at deflecting and changing the subject.

“Well, then,” Ignis proclaimed as they finished eating. “I believe His Highness and Gladio are on dish duty tonight. Prompto, would you care to join me outside and allow them to get to work?”

“What?” Noctis whined, not moving from his sprawl on the couch beside Prompto. “We did dishes last night.”

Ignis pierced him with a gaze similar to the one he’d given Prompto earlier.

Gladio laughed, the deep, rumbling sound filling the caravan and making Prompto smile despite himself. The Shield unfolded himself from his place on the floor and kicked Noct’s boot. “Come on, Your Majesty. Iggy and Prompto cooked. Fair’s fair.”

The prince grumbled some more but reluctantly hauled himself off the couch and gathered the dishes.

Prompto lingered as long as he possibly could, not exactly looking forward to leaving what had become a fun, comforting atmosphere in order to go have an uncomfortable talk with Ignis in the dark, with who knew what lurking nearby. It was only a combination of Gladio shooing him and Ignis giving him another Look that finally dragged him out of the RV.

The night was warmer than he’d expected, and humid to boot. He automatically glanced up at the sky and found himself entirely too disappointed by the low clouds covering the stars. He’d gotten used to seeing them twinkling up above him over the last week. It was nice to think they were watching over them every now and then, even though he knew that was stupid. They were just stars. And he was pretty sure there was absolutely nothing watching over them, with the way things were going.

Ignis led him away from the caravan and out of the little rest stop, carefully keeping them well within the pool of light from the street lamps. They walked in silence for a while, their footfalls tapping in time with a host of animal noises from further down in the Slough.

Prompto thought he could identify some of them—that was definitely a frog croaking, right?—but others left him mystified. Hopefully they weren’t monsters out to kill them, or worse, daemons.

“This should suit,” Ignis proclaimed quietly. He climbed over the guardrail, long legs clearing it easily, and waded through the tall grass to a large, craggy boulder just on the edge of the light. He paused in the act of climbing up it and glanced at Prompto. “Coming?”

Prompto flashed him a weak smile and clambered over the railing. The rock was warm under his hands as he scrambled up to sit beside Ignis, knees drawn up to his chest and heels braced on a convenient little jag of stone. He fidgeted with the laces on his boots, just to keep his hands busy.

Ignis, on the other hand, leaned back on his elbows, stretched out as if he were a cat lounging in the sunlight. He closed his eyes and said nothing, apparently content to just wait until Prompto was ready to speak.

Prompto almost wished he’d say something. He could talk a mile a minute about photography or video games or chocobos, but talking about himself and his feelings was another matter entirely. One that always made him feel awkward. It was a little easier when someone asked questions, but he was pretty sure Ignis wasn’t going to give him that luxury.

Twisting the end of the dusty shoelace between his fingers, Prompto stared into the thick foliage of the Slough. He couldn’t make out details past the edge of the circle of light, but he remembered the trees and scrub from their quick glance around before the sun set. Trying to make out the plants through the dark at least gave him something to focus on that wasn’t his own thoughts.

Of course, he was supposed to be focusing on his own thoughts.

Mourning Insomnia. Mourning home. His parents. His old life. King Regis. That nice old guy at the cafe who used to buy him lunches when he hadn’t had time to get groceries. His comic collection. The arcade he’d spent so much time at with Noct. All his old photos, plastered on the walls of his bedroom. The game system Noctis had bought him for his 17th birthday. The musicians who’d always played on that one corner on his way to school. His favorite coffee shop, where he’d written Astrals knew how many papers throughout high school.

How was he supposed to mourn all that? How was he supposed to get over that loss? It wasn’t like his pet fish had died. This was the death of an entire city. The death of his entire life.

Ignis shifted beside him, sitting up and adjusting his glasses. He tilted his head back the same way he had at the Haven that night, but this time there were no stars to guild his face with soft, blue light. The streetlight cast weird shadows under his sharp cheekbones, making him look almost gaunt and sickly. He jumped, blinked, and pulled his glasses off, frowning at a drop of water on the lenses. “It would appear the weather is turning.”

Prompto glanced at him, then at the sky. Of course it would rain now. Maybe he could use that as an excuse to get out of this conversation before it even started.

Not likely. If anything, Ignis would probably make them sit out here in the storm until he heard what he wanted to hear.

Prompto took a deep breath and held it while he tried to organize his thoughts. There had to be some way to start this. Something to say that would open the floodgates and let him express all the sorrow and confusion he’d been locking up tight for days. Okay. Just talk. Yeah. Say the first thing that came to mind and just…go.

“Couple of weeks ago, I saved a kitten.” Wow, that was a stupid place to start. His voice wavered and he paused, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. He’d started, so now he should at least try to finish. “Um. Pulled her out of the gutter and took her home. Cleaned her up, fed her…couldn’t have been more than a month old. Tiny little thing. You, uh…I think you were probably there when I called Noct. Don’t know if you remember.”

Ignis carefully cleaned the single water droplet off his lens and settled the glasses back on his nose. His expression was soft, patient, as he nodded. “I remember. You sounded positively in a panic.”

Prompto chuckled weakly, trying not to feel too awkward that Ignis didn’t seem to be judging him like he’d expected. “Yeah, I guess I was kinda freaked. I didn’t know if she’d make it. And you know how I am with animals…uh, anyway. Noct talked me into taking her to a shelter so they could take care of her and find her a good home, since I couldn’t keep her. And…man, it sounds stupid…”

“Tell me anyway,” Ignis urged gently. He shifted again, brushing his shoulder ever so slightly against Prompto’s. The cloth of his jacket was soft as it ghosted over Prompto’s bare skin.

“I keep wondering if she’s okay,” Prompto whispered, the words sounding choked despite his best effort. He normally didn’t mind crying in front of his friends, but it felt so dumb to get worked up over a cat he’d barely known when so many other things— _people_ —were gone. He took a shaky breath and chuckled weakly as a couple raindrops hit the backs of his hands. “Gladio was worried about Iris, and Noct about King Regis. But me? I’m worried about some kitten that didn’t even have a name. What kind of freak does that make me?”

“You aren’t a freak.” Ignis said it so firmly that Prompto looked at him full-on for the first time since they’d sat down. Ignis’ brows were furrowed ever so slightly above his glasses, his lips pursed in concern. It was an expression Prompto had never actually seen on his face before. After a moment, the advisor continued. “It is well within the realm of coping mechanisms to focus on a seemingly insignificant detail in order to avoid the larger consequences of an event. So, please…don’t berate yourself. Tell me your concerns. It may help.”

Prompto couldn’t help but stare. Ignis wasn’t judging him, or agreeing that he was being stupid, or…or anything he had expected, honestly. He had no idea how to react to that. So he wound up gaping like an idiot as the rain began in earnest.

After a moment, Ignis cleared his throat. “I hope you’ve no plans to keep us out all night. You’re likely to catch cold if the weather gets much worse.”

“Sorry,” Prompto muttered before he could think. It was a habitual response. One Noctis had given him plenty of friendly scoldings over. He winced, expecting a similar response from Ignis.

Instead, a soft, damp leather glove rested on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Forgive my poor attempt a joke, hm? Take your time. We’ve no need to hurry.”

Prompto suddenly realized how very much off his game he had been. Normally, he was pretty good at figuring out Ignis’ dry sense of humor, but he’d been dead convinced the man was trying to tell him to hurry up. He laughed weakly and shifted, which pressed his arm against Ignis’ damp jacket as he stretched his legs out and let them drop down the side of the boulder. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

Over the sound of water hitting skin and cloth and stone, Prompto heard the strange, metallic crash that signaled the appearance of a daemon. Hopefully it wouldn’t stray too close to the light; he wasn’t sure the two of them could handle one on their own.

The rain danced down, blurring the light from the streetlamp into sulfur-yellow watercolor around them. It made the moment feel like a dream, twisted and unreal, verging on becoming a nightmare.

Well, if this was almost a nightmare, he might as well just take the leap and make it awful on his own terms. He brushed his dripping hair out of his eyes, forced his shoulders straight, and…deflated with a sigh. There really was no good way to do this. He just had to get it over with. “Iggy?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t…when I think about Insomnia, about…everything. I just…I’m kind of numb, you know? It’s like it’s so far away. Like it happened to someone else, not me.” Prompto had meant to say something else, to ask something about the MTs, but the words had twisted in his throat and come out barely a whisper. He wasn’t entirely sure if Ignis actually heard his voice, with the rain and the daemon shrieks and the animal night noises all around them. “So I don’t…really know what to talk about. And you’re right. We shouldn’t stay out here much longer. Thanks for trying.”

For a long moment, Ignis sat perfectly still. Then he sighed and, without warning, shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Prompto’s bare shoulders. “Remind me to provide you with lying lessons before we reach Altissia, will you?”

Prompto blinked up at him, then, despite all odds, laughed. A real laugh, not the little chuckles he’d forced out earlier. “Am I really that bad?”

“Positively dreadful,” Ignis agreed dryly.

Prompto chuckled again and, after a moment of hesitation, let himself lean against Ignis, resting his head on his companion’s shoulder. They were both already soaking, so his wet hair wouldn’t matter much, and he realized he needed the contact. Normally, he’d fall melodramatically over Noct and strategically squirm until the prince finally gave up and hugged him or started cursing at him. But Noct wasn’t here and there was something about the idea of flinging himself dramatically over Ignis’ lap that just felt weird. Leaning on his shoulder was still weird, but it wasn’t quite as bad. Ignis was warm against him, even through the wet shirt and jacket. For a moment, Prompto thought he could feel Ignis’ pulse against his temple.

“Comfortable?” Ignis shifted just a little, resting his hand behind Prompto’s hip and leaning his weight on it.

Prompto nodded and pulled Ignis’ jacket a little tighter around himself. “Thanks.”

They sat like that in the rain for several long moments. Maybe it wasn’t a nightmare after all. Maybe it could still be a good dream, if he didn’t say something really stupid. Yeah, better just keep his mouth shut until Ignis decided they could go back to the caravan.

“Would it help if I shared some of my thoughts?”

The question caught Prompto completely off-guard. He had nearly drifted off, sitting there in the warm rain with his head on Ignis’ shoulder. He blinked and scrubbed at his eyes, trying to force himself to wake up again. Did he want to hear Ignis’ thoughts? Well, at least that would take the pressure off trying to force his own brain into order for a while. He nodded again, his wet hair sticking strangely to the side of Ignis’ neck.

Ignis inhaled quietly, his shoulder raising under Prompto’s cheek. When he spoke again, his voice was low, vibrating gently through their contact. “I didn’t believe it at first. That morning, when I went to get the paper, I—well, to put it plainly, I froze. I must have stood by the stand for a full half hour before finally purchasing a copy. My first thoughts weren’t about the city itself, or my uncle, or even His Majesty. If I’m being quite honest, I didn’t even think about Noct in those first moments.”

Prompto let the words wash over him, Ignis’ lilting voice comforting despite the topic. He’d never realized how much he liked that accent until just now. It was soothing when it wasn’t being used to scold or lecture.  

Ignis paused, cleared his throat, and continued even quieter. ”I’m rather ashamed to admit I found myself immediately contemplating the loss of the royal library. In that moment, the thought of thousands of years of knowledge lost was far more distressing than the realization that I was the one who had to explain what had happened to His Highness. It feels foolish to fixate on so insignificant a detail, but it is often the small moments that help us understand the enormity of such a tragedy. Not unlike your concern over the kitten.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being honest, or just telling me something to make me feel better,” Prompto admitted after a moment, closing his eyes again. Of course, after he’d said it, he remembered that Ignis never really said things just to make people feel better. It just wasn’t in his nature. He sighed. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“I do wish you’d stop calling yourself stupid.” Ignis pulled away, leaning down to catch Prompto’s eye. His hair had fallen out of its perfect spikes and fell in his face, only out of his eyes by virtue of catching on the frames of his water-splattered glasses. “We’re in crisis, Prompto. All of us. I fear we will be for quite a while at this rate. But the only wrong way to cope with it is to avoid it. So, please. If not for your own sake, for Noct’s. He needs you at your best. We all do.”

The heat of a blush crept up the back of Prompto’s neck and he ducked his head, looking anywhere but at Ignis’ face. There was something in Ignis’ eyes, in the stern, earnest expression, that made him want to melt into a puddle and slink away. The memory of the barcode on his wrist popped unbidden into his mind and he winced. He didn’t deserve the sympathy. He didn’t deserve someone caring about him like that.

“Would you…” He paused, licked rainwater off his lips, swallowed hard. He grasped his wrist, pressing the bracelet into his skin. _Just say it, you coward_. “Would you still say that if I wasn’t…if I was…I mean, just…hypothetically, if I was…I don’t know…say, a Niff?”

Prompto had expected Ignis to recoil, to immediately retract his words, to freak out. But Ignis didn’t move. He sat completely still for a long moment and Prompto could feel those sharp eyes sizing him up, studying him, weighing his worth. He braced himself for the shocked yelling, the demand for some sort of proof. His mind screamed at him for finally giving voice to the fears that had plagued him since that first time he’d fought an MT on the hill over Insomnia. He’d had nightmares since then about himself under that armor, but he hadn’t said anything to the others. They were just nightmares. He was Lucian. Wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he convince himself that he was?

“Your concerns about being coerced to work for the Empire.” Ignis very gently, almost hesitantly, placed his hand over Prompto’s on his wrist. The damp leather of his glove was still warm and soft, and it made Prompto’s heart twist in his chest. “I imagine they’ve only gotten worse since the signing ceremony. I apologize for not asking after them sooner.”

Prompto shook his head emphatically and couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Ignis’ touch. Warm tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he didn’t bother brushing them away. They only mingled with the rain anyway. “It’s not your problem, Iggy.”

“Of course it’s my problem. You’re my friend.” Ignis squeezed his hand gently. “What can I do to alleviate some of the fear?”

Prompto tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. How did Ignis always do the exact opposite of what he was expecting? He forced himself to look up at Ignis’ face again, unconsciously searching for some sign the man was lying. All he saw were lips pressed and brow furrowed in concern. He honestly wanted to help. He didn’t seem at all worried about the possibility that Prompto wasn’t what he thought he was. If Ignis could believe it, maybe Prompto could force himself to believe it, too. Somehow. “I…don’t know.”

Ignis’ stunning eyes flicked back and forth as he studied Prompto’s face. Finally, he nodded slowly. “May I make a request?”

“Yeah…sure.” Prompto wiped his face with the back of his forearm, not entirely certain if he was cleaning away more rain or tears.

“Consider what I might do to aid you and let me know the moment you’ve an idea. I had hoped conversations might do the trick, but it seems you’re less inclined to intimate words than I had believed. So if there’s anything else, please…simply tell me.” A very soft, very small smile curved Ignis’ lips. After a moment, he reached up and brushed Prompto’s sopping hair off his forehead with his wet glove. “What I said earlier is true; we need you at your best for this journey. Noctis trusts you, and he needs you to make him smile as the world comes crashing down around us. Gladiolus needs someone on the edge of battle to watch his back. You know how reckless he can be in pursuit of his duty.”

Prompto’s breath caught. Ignis was being so gentle with him, so tender. It was all he could do not to crave more of the physical contact. “A-and you?”

“Me? Prompto, you remind me that there is more to life than my duty to His Highness. You require me to look at angles I had previously left unconsidered, much to my own detriment.” Ignis’ soft smile widened just a little. He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “And you provide me a much-needed respite from playing Mother Duck to Noctis and Gladio. Left to their own devices, the two of them would subsist on nothing but Cup Noodles and junk food. It’s honestly a pleasure to have someone else along who appreciates the finer side of the culinary arts.”

Prompto hadn’t been expecting that. The sound that came out of his throat was equal parts grateful sob and disbelieving laugh. He shook his head in amazement and wiped his face again. “I’m not nearly as good a cook as you are.”

“At least you attempt it,” Ignis replied, a note of wistfulness in his voice. He sighed and stretched, slicking his hair back from his forehead. “I suppose it’s about time we returned. Before His Highness decides to chase us down on his own. Unless there was anything else you wanted to speak about?”

Prompto considered it, looking down at his hands, one still clamped over the opposite wrist. Very slowly, he forced his fingers to relax, forced his hand away, and stared at the bracelet over the barcode. He could say something now. He could show it to Ignis and ask that he keep the secret, or try to help him figure out what it was. But the words stuck in his chest like a knife. Ignis might have pretty much said he accepted Prompto no matter what, but that was all hypothetical. It could change in an instant if he actually found out.

He glanced up and smiled as earnestly as he could. “Nah. I’m good. But, uh. Thanks.”

Ignis studied him again for a moment before nodding. He slid off the boulder, his shoes squelching in the mud as he landed. “If you’re certain, let’s get out of the rain.”

Prompto jumped off the rock, flubbed the landing, and would have fallen if Ignis hadn’t caught him. He smiled sheepishly up at him as he straightened, Ignis’ jacket still hanging from his shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Certainly.” Ignis smiled and brushed Prompto’s wet hair off his forehead again. His hand hovered beside Prompto’s cheek for just a second too long and Prompto couldn’t help but wonder if he’d wanted to do something else.

Thinking about what ‘something else’ that might have been made him blush, and he eagerly took the excuse of hearing another daemon appear to jump for the road.

The walk back to the rest stop seemed infinitely shorter than the walk out had been, and Prompto was shivering despite the warmth of the night when they finally arrived at the caravan.

Noctis was already asleep, sprawled over the single bed, and Gladio had laid out the blankets and sleeping bags—Prompto’s on the couch and his and Ignis’ on the floor. The Shield glanced up from his phone when Prompto and Ignis slipped in. His brow furrowed, puckering the scar over his eye. “The hell’ve you two been? Was starting to think you’d been attacked by a daemon.”

“Apologies,” Ignis replied quietly, picking his way over the sleeping bags to grab two clean towels from the tiny linen closet in the corner. He tossed one easily to Prompto. “We had some business to take care of.”

That made Gladio’s brows shoot up. He glanced between the two of them. “Business, huh? That why Prompto’s wearing your jacket?”

Prompto blushed again at the teasing tone of the question. He quickly peeled Ignis’ jacket off, balled it up, and threw it unceremoniously at Gladio’s face. Sure, he might be developing a huge crush on Ignis, but that didn’t mean anything! “I-it’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not,” Gladio teased, chucking the jacket onward toward Ignis.

“I’ll remember this the next time you give Noct your jacket in the rain,” Ignis said dryly. He unfolded the offending piece of clothing and meticulously hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “For now, might I suggest we get some rest? Tomorrow will be a long day. We still have quite a ways to go before we reach Lestallum.”

Prompto nodded as he scrubbed the towel over his hair. He was pretty sure he’d sleep like a rock, if he could get his brain to shut the hell up.

“Iris says she’s already got rooms for us at the Leville,” Gladio said, glancing back at his phone. He smiled fondly, then flipped it off and set it aside to charge.

“Should be a nice change of pace.” Ignis quickly unbuttoned and shrugged out of his wet shirt, changing efficiently into his sleep clothes.

Prompto followed suit, dripping his way to his bag near the bed and changing as quickly as he could. He popped his contacts out without thinking and dropped them into their case in his bag. His pajamas were warm, even though they were only shorts and yet another tank top. At least they were dry. Unable to resist the temptation, he poked Noct’s side and grinned as his friend grumbled and rolled over. If nothing else, he could count on sleeping Noct to provide some distraction and amusement.

“He’s gonna hit you some day,” Gladio muttered, laughter in his rough voice.

“Nah.” Prompto laughed as he climbed over the armrest of the couch and stretched out on top of his sleeping bag, arms folded behind his head. “He likes me too much.”

Even as he said the words, Prompto wasn’t entirely certain he believed them. But it was a joke anyway, and he had to at least pretend to be back to his normal self.

Ignis’ words circled around in his head as someone flipped the lights off. _We need you at your best. Consider what I might do to aid you and let me know the moment you’ve an idea._

Half-formed worries and plans drifted in and out of Prompto’s mind as he finally gave into the exhaustion that had plagued him for days.


	4. The Blur of Lestallum

When they finally arrived, Lestallum was one big blur of music, maze-like streets, and enticing-smelling street food. Prompto was instantly awed and overwhelmed, and he spent the entire walk to the Leville snapping photos of anything and everything. It was a big city, but it was nothing like Insomnia. Where Insomnia was all sleek and modern, Lestallum was quaint and historic—filled with little nooks and crannies that were just perfect for testing new photography techniques. Gladio had to grab him by the arm and drag him through the streets to the Leville to meet up with Iris, Jared, and Talcott.

Prompto’s good mood vanished when the ground shook and Noctis doubled over in pain halfway to the hotel. The worry only grew when Noct described the vision he’d had, but Ignis was ushering them all forward before they could really figure out what was happening.

When Iris told them what had happened in Insomnia, Prompto completely froze up. The attack during the signing ceremony, the three of them barely managing to get out in time, Lunafreya’s escape to Altissia. He could see it all so vividly, smell the smoke of the burning city again. His hands clung tight to his camera as he forced himself to breathe, to remind himself they were in Lestallum. They were safe. Ish. He didn’t dare think about the fact that it was only a matter of time before the Empire closed in on the city.

Ignis’ hand was warm on his shoulder, the gentle squeeze helping him remember how lungs worked.

He glanced up at Ignis and smiled weakly, even though the man’s attention was clearly on Iris and Noct’s conversation. All the same, it was nice that he cared enough to put his hand on Prompto’s shoulder, and it helped more than he probably realized.

It helped so much, in fact, that by the next morning, Prompto was pretty sure he had an answer for the question Ignis had asked him back at Alstor.

Ignis was gone by the time Prompto woke the next morning, but that wasn’t a surprise. Even when they stayed in motels, or rooms as nice as the Leville, where he didn’t have to cook, Ignis was always up first. He said he liked the early morning, when things were still quiet, and used the time to catch up on the news and make plans for the day ahead.

It had become a pattern over the last few weeks: Ignis would wake first and either start breakfast or sit in the motel café with his morning Ebony; Gladio normally got up next and went for a morning run; then Prompto, who typically lingered in bed scrolling through his phone for at least half an hour; finally, one of them would nudge the reluctant Noctis awake and drag him out of bed for food.

This morning, though, Prompto somehow managed to beat Gladio to wakefulness. He washed his face, popped his contacts in—the left one always gave him problems when it was too hot, so it took longer than normal—pulled on clean clothes, and slipped out of the hotel room as quietly as he could.

His boots were muffled on the thick, plush carpet as he crept his way down the stairs. The early morning light slanted through the high windows of the lobby, rich and golden and hot. Why the hell was it so hot here, even before the day really began? He was pretty sure he was going to melt before they left, even with the excitement of the new city to distract him a little.

The Leville lobby was still pretty much empty as he made his quiet way across, wishing he’d brought his camera with him. He could have gotten some beautiful shots of the sunrise through the stained glass, but he’d left the camera charging upstairs. He’d just have to try to remember it.

True to his prediction, he found Ignis sitting at a table in the outdoor café attached to the hotel, a cup of coffee in front of him as he scrolled through something on his phone. He wore a casual t-shirt, soft cotton already clinging to his torso with sweat, and had pushed his glasses up on his forehead.

Prompto paused and leaned against the doorframe, seriously kicking himself for not bringing the camera.

Ignis was…gorgeous: the sunlight caught in his light brown hair, glittering on the lenses of his glasses; the subtle, thoughtful frown gracing his lips; the intense focus in his eyes, as if he could figure out the entire world if he just studied it hard enough; the graceful, easy movement as he lifted the coffee cup for a long, luxurious sip; the delicate shift in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.

Prompto swallowed hard. When the hell had he started thinking like that? He was going to have to work hard to keep his little crush from getting way out of control. Maybe asking for hugs and physical contact wasn’t such a great idea after all. But it helped him feel so much better.

“Good morning, Prompto,” Ignis said without looking up from his phone. He smirked just a little at Prompto’s indignant squeak, and took another long, slow sip of his coffee.

Prompto had to wonder if Ignis was somehow teasing him. Did Ignis know about his developing crush? Oh, no. He better not. Laughing self-consciously, Prompto finally stepped out of the doorway and dropped into the chair across from Ignis, turning it sideways so his body faced the square instead of the table. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Process of elimination,” Ignis proclaimed easily. He finally turned his phone off, pulled his glasses down, and glanced up. In one smooth, delicate motion, he pulled his coffee cup closer and wrapped his long fingers around it, holding it up before his lips as he continued his explanation. “His Highness rarely wakes of his own volition before eleven, at best. So, Noct is quite impossible. Gladio can’t fathom walking quietly when he’s half-asleep, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. He’s incredibly easy to track in the mornings, and there was none of his telltale grumbling. Which leaves you.”

“Or, you know, some random dude. We are in a city again, Iggy.” Prompto grinned and made a sweeping gesture with one arm toward the fountain in the square and the handful of other early risers strolling in the sunrise.

Ignis chuckled and took another sip of his coffee. “Passerby rarely lurk in doorways and watch a stranger drink coffee.”

“You got me there.” Prompto laughed again and slouched back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him as far as they went. Hopefully, Ignis didn’t notice his blush. Which was a stupid hope. Of course Ignis noticed it.

A waiter appeared and Prompto ordered a Ulwaat Berry muffin and a glass of orange juice—then, on Ignis’ insistence that he eat some sort of protein, tacked on a side of Garula bacon.

“Are you enjoying Lestallum so far?” Ignis asked in that soft, mild tone that Prompto had come to realize meant there was something else on his mind that he didn’t want to bring up just yet. His coffee cup clicked quietly as he replaced it on the tabletop.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Prompto turned to look at the sunrise sparkling in the fountain instead of Ignis. If he was going to go through with this and ask for what he thought would help keep him balanced, he wasn’t sure he could see Ignis’ expression. At least his thoughts on Lestallum weren’t a lie. “Wish it wasn’t so damn hot, though.”

“That would be the astral shard,” Ignis muttered distractedly. “No way around it, unfortunately.”

The soft, rhythmic thump of leather on ceramic made Prompto glance over after all to find Ignis drumming his fingers against the side of his mug, his attention back on his phone. Swallowing, Prompto forced his gaze up from the gloved hands to Ignis’ face. “Uh. Ignis? You okay, buddy?”

“Hm? Oh. Apologies.” Ignis’ fingers stopped tapping and he polished off his coffee. “I’ve been considering the roads and our timing, now that we’ve ascertained Iris and the others are safe.”

“Huh?” Prompto sat up a little, frowning at Ignis. “What do you mean?”

Ignis cleared his throat and turned his phone off again, pointedly flipping it over. “We’ve all been under such stress lately, and with the delay of the wedding and our subsequent deadline, I thought it might be prudent to investigate a short…detour.”

Prompto’s curious frown deepened and he leaned his elbow on the table, resting his cheek on his palm. “You know, it’s weird when you stop making sense.”

“I merely meant we might do well to take some time to…relax for a bit.” Ignis shifted in his seat, twisting his mug ever so slightly on the tabletop. “Perhaps at the Chocobo Post?”

Prompto sat up straight at the word “chocobo,” all thoughts of asking for more physical contact vanishing in an instant. He’d loved chocobos as long as he could remember, but he’d never been able to see one outside the Insomnia Zoo, let alone ride one before. Noct had meant to take him to the Chocobo Post for a birthday one year, but the Crownsguard had strictly prohibited the prince from traveling outside the Wall for any reason. Sneaking out of the Citadel was one thing, but sneaking out of the Crown City was a different game entirely. They’d wound up at Noct’s apartment playing video games and binge watching chocobo videos on the ‘net all night. But now Ignis was suggesting taking time to go to the Post, after everything that had happened in the last few weeks? “Y-you can’t be serious. Really?”

Ignis cleared his throat again and adjusted his glasses. “If you’d rather not—”

“No, of course not!” Prompto interrupted quickly. He wasn’t going to let a chance to see the chocobos slip by like that! But this trip wasn’t about him. It had been about Noct and the wedding, and had morphed into fighting Niflheim and collecting the Royal Arms. Did they really have the time and the luxury to go running off to see chocobos? “I just…you sure Noct won’t mind? I mean, he’s worried sick about Luna, and he already said we didn’t have time. You don’t think we should just…you know, keep heading for Altissia?”

The waiter returned with Prompto’s breakfast before Ignis could reply.

Once the man had set down juice, muffin, and bacon, refilled Ignis’ coffee cup, and slipped away, Ignis sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms against the edge of the table, fingers knitted together. “Perhaps. But I’m afraid continuing to push ourselves so vehemently will prove detrimental to everyone’s wellbeing. It’s taking quite the toll on you and Noctis in particular, and I’d prefer to avoid alerting our enemies to that fact.”

“Oh. Right.” Prompto focused on meticulously peeling the wrapper off his muffin to avoid looking at Ignis. It couldn’t have just been a trip to see the chocobos for fun, could it? There had to be some other reason that sucked all the joy right out of the idea of the trip. He knew he was the weakest link on their team. He hadn’t had a decade or more of combat training. He’d completely frozen in that first big battle on the hill near Insomnia. He could barely take two hits from an Anak, and he was way more prone to get poisoned or petrified than the others. It only made sense that Ignis wouldn’t want to point out their biggest liability in big neon letters.

“Prompto?”

Prompto didn’t look up from folding the muffin wrapper into the tiniest triangle he could manage. “We don’t need to stop for me. I’ll just train harder. I’m sure Gladio’ll be more than happy to kick my ass until I’m up to par. I won’t be a problem. We can keep going. Seriously.”

An exceedingly exasperated sigh floated across the table. “Prompto, that isn’t what I meant at all. You’re quite an adept marksman, and we’re lucky to have you with us. This jaunt isn’t about your skills, or some perceived problem. All of us are exhausted and stretched quite thin; Gladio and I are simply better at hiding the fact. As I said, the rest of us require the respite as much as you do, and I hope that putting some distance between Noct and the Disc might help us ascertain whether these visions are something we ought to be more concerned about. I simply thought the location might be of particular interest to you.”

Prompto forced himself to finally set aside the dense triangle of flimsy paper and look up. He found that same earnest, concerned look on Ignis’ face from their conversation in the Slough—the one that made Prompto positively certain that Ignis wanted nothing more than to help, even though there was absolutely no reason for him to want to. The one that made Prompto’s heart beat a little faster and his stomach twist in on itself. The one that practically begged for him to lean forward and—daydreaming about kissing Ignis _seriously_ wasn’t going to help the situation.

He swallowed and pasted on his normal grin, toasting Ignis as goofily as he could with his orange juice. “Well…as long as I’m not the one slowing us down.”

“I’m certain that responsibility rests squarely with Noct, never fear.” The barest hint of a smile flickered at the corners of Ignis’ lips. It was gone as soon as it appeared, though. “Speaking of His Highness, he was still asleep when you woke, was he not?”

Prompto nodded. “Whatever Jared gave him for the headache really _Noct_ him out.”

That earned him a dry look over the rims of Ignis’ glasses. “I’m not sure this is a laughing matter, Prompto. That headache paired with those visions he described are concerning.”

“Yeah…I know.” Prompto sighed and sank back into his chair, bringing his plate of bacon with him. He wanted to defend his bad pun, but he knew there wasn’t really an excuse at the moment. Everything was just so overwhelming that he wasn’t sure what else to do except apologize and make jokes and hope that things turned out okay in the end.

They sat in silence for a while as Prompto ate his breakfast and Ignis drank his second (maybe?) cup of coffee. The sound of the city waking surrounded them: people chatting, shutters getting thrown open, stores opening for the morning—all sounds he might have heard back in Insomnia. For a second, he could almost pretend they were home.

Finally, Ignis’ voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant. “I must confess, I had hoped detouring to the Chocobo Post might perhaps be a bit…romantic for you.”

Prompto nearly choked on his last swallow of orange juice. Romantic? For him? “Wh-what?”

Ignis drummed his fingers against the side of his coffee cup again, his eyes focused on a point just above Prompto’s shoulder. “I know it’s rather unusual to invite one’s friends on an outing of such a nature, but I’m loathe to leave Noct and Gla—”

“Whoah, whoah, hold on a sec. Suggesting we go see the chocobos was…um. Iggy, I…are you…” Prompto wasn’t really sure he could get the words out. Was Ignis saying what he thought Ignis was saying? Was this supposed to be _a date?!_ “A-are you asking me out?”

Ignis’ fingers stilled, leaving him sitting like a statue in his chair. The barest hint of pink crept across his high cheekbones. The illusion of an Ignis statue broke as he reached up to adjust his glasses, then quickly followed the motion with a gulp of coffee. “I hadn’t intended to use such a term to describe it, but…I suppose I am. If you’re amenable to the idea, of course. The last thing I wish is for you to feel I’ve forced you into considering something you find abhorrent or—”

“You’re not,” Prompto interrupted, talking just a little too fast. Ignis had asked him out on a date and he’d totally missed it. He’d been so excited about the idea of chocobos, so worried about what Noct would think, and Ignis hadn’t exactly been upfront about it and… _Ignis had asked him on a date?!_ “I mean, I hadn’t—I was going to, you know—I’ve been thinking about that thing you asked, back in Alstor? And, I—wow, you really?—shit, I mean, I was gonna ask you to—but now that’s probably weird, and—you’re seriously serious?”

Ignis blinked, adjusted his glasses again, and chuckled softly. “What were you going to ask me?”

Prompto opened his mouth to respond, then realized exactly how weird it sounded in light of what had just happened and froze, gaping like one of Noct’s fish. He felt the blush creep up the back of his neck, inching over his ears and onto his cheeks. His fingers fidgeted automatically with his bracelets. Why did Ignis want to go on a date with someone like him? He was a poor fighter, a commoner, someone who might not even have been Lucian at all. What right did he have to ask for hugs, especially now? Wouldn’t that just make things awkward, feel like he was moving too fast? What if Ignis took it the wrong way and thought he meant stuff like sex right off the bat?

“Prompto.” Both of Ignis’ hands took one of Prompto’s, the leather of their gloves sliding easily against each other. Ignis’ bare thumbs rested against Prompto’s, his skin hot and sweaty but somehow oh, so sweet. “Look at me. Take a breath. I won’t judge you for whatever you’ve to ask me. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. What can I do for you?”

Prompto stared down at their hands for a long moment. The silver of Ignis’ gloves seemed to blur and sparkle before his eyes, as if it had a life of its own. Ignis was touching him. Holding his hand. Just like before, in some unfathomable, indescribable way, the contact helped Prompto remember how to breathe, how to form words. It didn’t ease the embarrassment, but it allowed him to at least squeak out, “I was gonna ask you to touch me more.”

Ignis’ eyebrows shot up, his glasses conveniently choosing that moment to slide further down his nose.

“Not like that!” Prompto amended quickly, his voice half an octave higher than normal. How did people do this?! “I mean, just like…like hugs and stuff. Little things, you know? Just like…like this, even. It just…it helps? Wow, that sounds weird. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Ignis shook his head and gently squeezed Prompto’s hand. “I’m glad you’ve found something that helps. The least I can do is provide more points of contact as required.”

“You make it sound so…clinical.” Prompto chuckled breathlessly. Ignis didn’t think it was weird. He hadn’t let go yet. His heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to stop or beat so fast it exploded.

Ignis chuckled and Prompto thought he heard just a hint of sadness in the sound, but he couldn’t be sure. “An old coping mechanism of mine. Unfortunately, I believe we’re both caught quite unawares in this situation, and the nerves are a bit…overwhelming.”

“You can say that again.” Prompto laughed again, a little more solid this time. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and finally looked up at Ignis’ face again. “I can’t believe you really…want to go on a date with me?”

Ignis graced him with a soft, genuine smile. One of the rare ones Prompto had desperately tried and failed to capture with his camera. One of the ones that made him melt inside. “I do, yes. I know the timing is less than ideal, but with these last few weeks, I’ve come to realize time is…rather short.”

“Yeah…” Prompto swallowed hard, unable to stop the stupid smile spreading across his face. Ignis liked him. Against all odds, despite being pretty sure Ignis hated his guts when he first befriended Noct, Ignis had asked him on a date and hadn’t run screaming at his request. He was pretty sure he must have fallen through some kind of wormhole and into a totally different universe. “I just…wow. I can’t believe…wow.”

Ignis chuckled softly and lifted Prompto’s hand, pressing a very gentle kiss to the bare knuckles. Just the slightest brush of hot lips against sweaty skin.

Prompto had thought Lestallum couldn’t get any hotter. He’d been incredibly wrong.

“Shiva, get a room,” Gladio’s voice said from behind Prompto, making him squeak and jump, yanking his hand away from Ignis. The Shield’s laughter rumbled as he rounded the table, the sound practically palpable in the sweltering air. Gladio paused by the table, grabbed Ignis’ mug, and downed the coffee in a single gulp.

“Gladio,” Ignis sighed, one of his patented tired warnings in the word. He pulled his glasses off and set them on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Gladio just laughed again, gave them a mocking salute with his fist over his heart, and turned to jog down the hotel stairs.

“He’s never gonna let us live that down,” Prompto whined, hiding his face behind his hands. Of all the times Gladio could have picked to come out of the hotel, why did it have to be that one?

“Unfortunately,” Ignis agreed with another exasperated sigh. “We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t talk Noct into giving us a hard time, too. My apologies. I hadn’t intended to alert them to this…potential just yet.”

Prompto shook his head and giggled a little despite himself. He wasn’t sure what else to do but laugh stupidly. The idea of Gladio and Noct teasing him and Ignis mercilessly was just too embarrassing to seriously consider. And yet it was so…normal. Noct had always teased him about his crushes in high school, and everyone had joked about his infatuation with Cindy earlier in the trip. It was, for all its embarrassment, a surprisingly welcome break from all the tension and world-changing stuff they’d been slogging through for weeks.

“I’m gonna go check on Noct,” he announced after a moment, springing up out of his chair as if someone had tugged him up with a string. If Noctis was going to find out about Prompto and Ignis’ mutual crush and awkward maybe-date-thing, Prompto might as well be the one to tell him. He flashed Ignis a quick, shy grin and turned for the hotel’s front door, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Iggy?”

“Hm?” Ignis slipped his glasses back on and looked at Prompto, somehow looking a bit more frazzled than usual.

“Thanks.” Prompto smiled again and bounded inside before he could say something stupid.


	5. The Blur of the Archaean

In the end, the trip to the Chocobo Post was delayed, due to both Talcott’s story about a Royal Arm nearby and Noct’s condition. Prompto would have been lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, but his concern for his friend—and years of practice—made it easy to ignore. Ignis assured him there would be plenty of time to see the chocobos later, and Prompto did his best not to notice the uncertain tone in his voice.

It was a feat to make their way to the Royal Tomb with Noctis in near-constant pain, but, with the exception of a nasty run-in with a couple of mindflayers, they managed to get in and out without _too_ much trouble. Of course, another earthquake and vision meant they decided to head straight back to Lestallum instead of turning for the Chocobo Post.

Noctis’ visions were getting closer together, and stronger than ever. Almost as soon as they arrived back at the Leville, he had yet another one. This time, he said it was clearly the Disc of Cauthess, and Gladio suggested they go take a look.

Prompto hovered at his friend’s elbow as they made their way down the city steps and across the street toward the outlook. He knew he didn’t really have the strength to catch Noct if he fell, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. At least it was something to do. If there was one thing Prompto absolutely loathed, it was feeling useless. If he couldn’t help his friends, who knew when they’d grow tired of him and leave?

He shoved the thought aside as best he could when they reached the overlook…and the weirdo who’d thrown Noct an Oracle Ascension Coin at Galdin Quay turned to smile at them.

“What a coincidence.” There was something about the stranger’s smile that sent a shiver down Prompto’s spine and he straightened unconsciously.

Gladio stepped up beside Noct and folded his arms, looking more than intimidating. “I’m not so sure it is.”

The man chuckled. His amber eyes flicked from Noctis to Prompto for a second so brief Prompto was almost certain he’d imagined it. “Aren’t nursery rhymes curious things?”

Why the hell was he talking about nursery rhymes? Prompto glanced to Ignis, standing beside him, and swallowed hard at the look on Ignis’ face. The fact that Ignis seemed just as unsettled and confused as Prompto himself was definitely not good.

“Like this one,” the man continued, apparently oblivious to the fact that none of them had any idea what he was talking about, “‘From the deep the Archaean calls. Yet on deaf ears, the gods’ tongue falls. The King made to kneel in pain, he crawls.’”

The King, the Archaean…was that more than just a nursery rhyme? Was it about Noct and his headaches? Prompto glanced at his friend, then stepped forward and asked, “So how do we keep him on his feet?”

The stranger leaned toward him and smirked.

It felt like those intense eyes bore straight into Prompto, reading his very soul, picking out his greatest weakness and his greatest fear. His wrist tingled under the bracelets, but he was sure he was just imagining things. His shoulders straightened despite himself, like that expression had pulled some sort of puppet string attached to his spine. He swallowed hard, more than relieved when the man walked past him.

“You need only heed the call. Visit the Archaean and hear his plea.” He turned around dramatically, his heavy clothes fluttering in the hot breeze. His smirk had widened, as if he knew something they didn’t. “I can take you.”

The four of them didn’t need words to huddle up and discuss options. Prompto wedged himself between Noct and Gladio, glancing anxiously at the stranger over his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Noct muttered, rubbing at his forehead with his fingertips. It probably still hurt. Poor Noct.

Prompto swallowed again. They had to do _something_ to try to figure out what was happening. And there was something about this guy that…well, both terrified and intrigued him. The way he’d looked at Prompto earlier, like he knew about the barcode, about his secret fears of not being what he thought he was…

It was like he was pushed forward by something outside of himself. “We take a ride…”

“But watch our backs,” Gladio tacked on, his voice a low, firm rumble.

Ignis frowned, but nodded. “Fair enough.”

The stranger introduced himself as Ardyn, and invited them to follow him to his car.

Prompto sprinted to obey, leaving his friends still in their little huddle. Why the hell was he suddenly so eager to follow this weirdo? He didn’t even glance back, even though he knew he should. Thank the Astrals he heard Ignis, Noct, and Gladio move to follow before he made a total idiot of himself.

Soon enough, they were following Ardyn’s car out of Lestallum and downhill, toward the Disc, Noct at the wheel.

Prompto couldn’t sit still in his seat. This all felt weird. Too weird. Like he simultaneously wanted to run away and climb into Ardyn’s car and do whatever the guy asked. Which freaked him out more than that creepy little smirk. Prompto wasn’t exactly the type to take orders from strangers—especially not strangers with a less than subtle serial killer vibe—so why did it feel like he had no choice?

He babbled to try and distract himself, until Ignis leaned forward from the backseat and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Prompto sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting himself focus on the warmth of Ignis’ glove, the gentleness of the contact. Right. He wasn’t alone. Ignis had his back. Ignis still wanted to take him on a date when all this was over. That thought only worked him up in a totally different way and he glanced back, smiling shyly as he muttered an apology.

The drive felt like it took forever, time spinning out into infinite threads as Noct followed the other car. Eventually, though, they pulled up outside the blockade near the Disc.

Ardyn stood in his seat and waved, calling up to whoever was on the top of the wall. “Hello! It’s me! Would you be so kind as to open up?”

There was an odd sort of scramble on top of the wall and the huge metal door groaned as it slid open.

Prompto wasn’t sure he’d ever been as relieved and tense at the same time as when Ardyn announced they were parting ways. He couldn’t stop from looking back at the weirdo as they passed, though.

Ardyn smirked and winked, which sent another shiver down Prompto’s spine.

Noct parked the car at the end of the road and they piled out, their boots crunching on the sweltering gravel.

“Damn, it’s hot,” Gladio grumbled, wiping sweat out of his eyes as they started down the narrow path.

Prompto muttered his agreement, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ardyn and the guy’s weird expressions. And that odd little tingle on the back of his wrist that hadn’t quite gone away. What was that about?

They turned a corner and his attention snapped back to reality. At the end of the path hunkered curved ruins of rock that looked like the remains of some dome-shaped building. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Didn’t expect to find a Royal Tomb here,” Ignis muttered from beside him, pushing his glasses up on his nose. They kept sliding down with the excessive heat and sweat.

Gladio clapped Noctis on the shoulder and shoved him forward. “Would be a shame not to grab that power, eh, Highness?”

“Let’s grab it and go.” Noct’s voice sounded as tense as Prompto felt.

Even after watching it four times, Prompto wasn’t entirely certain he would ever get used to the mystical blue weapons stabbing his best friend so Noct could claim their power. It was definitely one of the most bizarre things he’d ever seen.

After that, everything happened so fast it was a blur: the ground shook, rock split, the Tomb crumbled down the cliff, taking Noct with it. Gladio dove after him as the ground continued to tremble, leaving Ignis and Prompto alone on the remains of the stone path.

“Noct!” Prompto shouted, leaning as far over the edge as he dared, ready to jump back to solid ground if he felt anything shifting too much. “You okay?”

Ignis took hold of Prompto’s arm and pulled him back just a bit, leaning over the edge himself instead. A tiny relieved sigh escaped his lips. “Thank heavens you’re safe. Is there a way back up?”

Prompto could barely see Noctis waving his arms at them. “No, but there’s a path. Gonna see where it leads.”

“You two try to get down,” Gladio tacked on, his voice only barely louder than Noct’s.

Get down? Prompto glanced at the sheer drop between where they stood and where their friends were. How the hell were they supposed to get down there without killing themselves?

“Very well. We’ll look for a way. Be careful now.” Ignis adjusted his glasses again and stepped away from the edge, pulling Prompto with him.

“What? We’re going where?” Prompto let Ignis pull him back, scrambling to keep his balance. He seriously didn’t like being separated from Noct and Gladio at a time like this. What if they ran into a monster? What if the Archaean woke up pissed and attacked Noct or something? What if Ardyn came back? What if they melted before they could find a way back to the others?

_It was so damn hot._

“Don’t stray too far,” Ignis replied as they made their way back up the crumbling path. He walked stiffly, shoulders squared, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “We must make haste.”

“Yeah.” Prompto sprinted after him, feet scrambling on loose stone. His boot snagged on some sort of groundcover plant and he went sprawling. The ground felt solid and scorching against his cheek, which at least helped him remember this was all _real_.

He braced his hands against the rock and hissed as he pushed himself back up, hoping his fingers weren’t going to blister from the heat. The strange tingling on his wrist jumped into a burning stab and he yelped, grabbing at his arm and cradling it against his chest. “Ow, ow, ow…”

“What’s wrong?” Ignis crouched next to him, restless concern in every line of his body. His glove practically creaked as he forced it out of its fist to rest on Prompto’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Prompto nodded and inhaled sharply. Whatever was happening to his wrist, he couldn’t say anything. He had to get up and keep moving. They had to find Noct and Gladio and get the hell out of here. “Yeah, I’m fine. You know me…just a klutz. Fell wrong or something. I’ll be fine. Sorry. Let’s go.”

Ignis’ hand tightened on his shoulder. “Prompto…now isn’t the time to play hero. If you’re injured, I’ve a curative.”

Prompto shook his head and hauled himself back to his feet. “Don’t waste it on me. Noct’s probably gonna need it if something happens with Titan down there.”

“If you’re certain.” Ignis’ jaw tightened and he looked as if he wanted to protest, but couldn’t come up with a good argument. Instead, he straightened and wrapped one arm around Prompto’s shoulders, gently urging him forward.

There was something possessive about the way Ignis’ fingers pressed into Prompto’s arm, but he wasn’t complaining. It helped keep him upright as his wrist throbbed. He tightened his fingers over his bracelets, struggling to keep his breathing even. What the hell was happening? The barcode had just been a weird tattoo before, easy enough to ignore if he covered it up. So why was the burning pain right on top of it? Did it have something to do with the proximity to Titan? The unbearable heat? Had Ardyn done something to him somehow? Was his brain just redirecting pain from somewhere else to that thing he hated about himself? How did he make it stop? And how the hell could he focus through it enough to climb down a cliff and help Noct with whatever was waiting for them?

“Prompto?”

Ignis’ voice made him blink. He glanced up at his companion, two steps ahead of him, and realized they had stopped walking. When had they stopped walking? “S-sorry. Uh. Maybe I should just…wait with the car or something.”

“That is an exceedingly stupid idea,” Ignis said dryly, his perfect eyebrows drawn together. “I won’t leave you, but you must tell me what’s wrong. We can’t afford to go into this situation blinder than we already are, and we’ve no time to bumble about. Noctis may be in danger.”

“I know!” Prompto shouted it before he could stop himself, his voice raw and broken. He clutched his arm to his chest as if that might stop the pain. His eyes burned, nearly as bad as his wrist. He wanted to help Noct, but how was he supposed to tell Ignis he had a secret barcode on his wrist that was throbbing for no reason? Ignis should just go without him, help Noct and Gladio, and leave him so he stopped getting in the way. He squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears leaking down his cheeks, and sucked in a shaky breath. When he finally spoke again, it came out in a tiny, broken whisper, “I know Noct’s in danger. That’s…th-that’s why I shouldn’t go.”

Ignis took a step forward, his frown deepening. “What are you talking about?”

Prompto thought he caught a glint of bright blue light at Ignis’ fingertips. Was he summoning his daggers? Prompto scrambled backward, tripped, and hit the ground again, the new pain in his back only accenting the burning in his wrist. _Why wouldn’t it stop?!_

The crunch of loose stone under boots, the heat increased ever so slightly, and suddenly Ignis’ gloved hands were on either side of Prompto’s face, squishing his cheeks as he gently pulled Prompto’s head up. One bare thumb brushed tears away as if moving automatically. “I know meaningful words aren’t your forte, but we’ve no time. If you want to help Noct, you must talk to me. Now.”

Prompto tried to shake his head, but Ignis’ grip held him still. He stared hopelessly at Ignis’ face for a long moment, his vision blurred by tears he didn’t bother trying to stop, then closed his eyes again. Words stuck in his throat like shards of glass. How was he supposed to say this? How was he supposed to admit to this secret he’d kept hidden for his entire life because he didn’t even understand it?

 _“Prompto._ ”

No time. He had to help Noct. He had to say something. He had to move. There was no time.

_Because the Empire was coming._

He pulled away from Ignis’ touch and looked up at the sky, searching for the airships. It was as empty as it had been moments before. Not an ship in sight. He couldn’t hear the telltale rumble of their engines, either. But he was dead certain they were on their way. “The Niffs….we’ve got to warn Noct.”

Ignis glanced up, every line of his body stiff, prepared for a fight. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he turned back to Prompto. His lips pressed together and his head tilted incrementally to the side in the way that meant he was working through a problem at the speed of light.

“I don’t know how I know, just…they’re coming!” Prompto scrambled back to his feet and dug for his phone. He nearly dropped it pulling it out of his pocket and cursed as the low battery icon flashed at him. He knew he should have charged it last night! “Iggy! Call Noct!”

“Are you certain?” Ignis asked, even as he smoothly produced his own phone. “I’m sure Noct has enough to worry about without a false alarm.”

Prompto pressed his hands to his temple and grabbed at his scalp. The Empire was on their way with a whole squad of magitek soldiers. They wanted Titan’s power, and they were determined to get it. He knew it, deep in his bones, but he had no idea how. “Just trust me! _Please!_ ”

Ignis studied him for another long moment before placing the call.

Almost immediately after Ignis lifted the phone to his ear, the low roar of magitek engines washed over them.

Ignis gave Prompto an odd, calculating look that cut deeper than his daggers ever could have, and turned away. “Noct? You’re safe. Good. Listen, Imperial troops are nearby. Be on your guard. We don’t know what their aim is, but I imagine it has something to do with the Archaean.”

Prompto tore his gaze away from the approaching dreadnoughts overhead. How could he have possibly known they were coming? Hesitantly, carefully, he pulled aside one of his bracelets and peeked at the barcode on his wrist. He’d half expected it to be red and swollen and bloody, but it looked as black and unremarkable as ever, stark against his pale skin. His stomach flipped over and he quickly yanked the bracelet back into place. At least the pain had ebbed a little bit.

“The call cut out,” Ignis muttered, his voice tight and low, barely audible over the sound of the magitek engines whining above them. He slipped his phone back in his pocket and turned to Prompto. “We haven’t much time. It’s imperative that we find our way down. Assuming you’re still coming?”

Prompto sucked in a breath. Ignis still wanted him to come, still trusted him to help Noct? Even though he had somehow predicted the Empire’s arrival? He swallowed, nodded curtly, and tried to smile. It probably looked as forced and awkward as it felt, but that didn’t matter right now. They had to help Noct. “Let’s go.”

Finding a way down the scorching cliffside took an agonizingly long time. There was no path, forcing them to pick their way between boulders and climb down sheer rock faces. The climb would have been stressful enough without the tense silence between them and the occasional attack from a handful of MTs that made it to the ground.

Prompto didn’t let himself hesitate when he caught sight of one of the soldiers. He couldn’t let them follow him and Ignis down to Noct. And maybe protecting Ignis would help repair whatever damage that bizarre little premonition had done. He could hope, at least. And he could hope that Ignis wouldn’t tell Noct and Gladio. They’d only overreact and make everything worse.

Lost in his thoughts, Prompto didn’t notice when loose rock shifted under him until he pitched forward. He tumbled head over heels in a shower of burning pebbles, his pistols going flying. It was a sheer miracle he managed to grab hold of a crag in a stone before he plunged over the edge of the cliff.

It was less of a miracle that the commotion attracted the attention of an MT sniper. The bullet slammed into the rock Prompto was holding. Stone shards scattered into the air, pummeling Prompto’s arm and head.

Grunting and cursing, he painfully pulled himself back up to solid ground. His guns were back in his hands in an instant and he aimed at the metallic soldier…but couldn’t pull the trigger. His muscles were completely frozen, no matter how much he wanted to fire. _What the hell?!_

The sniper trained its rifle on Prompto again.

One of Ignis’ daggers sprouted from its forehead and it collapsed with a shriek of metal.

“Watch yourself,” Ignis shouted as he yanked the dagger out of the lifeless MT.

“Yeah,” Prompto muttered. His arms dropped to his sides as if he’d just been released from some sort of mold and he forced himself to take a couple deep breaths. Whatever had just happened, it had to be a fluke, right? Just some side effect of all the stress. He’d been shooting MTs without problem for weeks now. Why had that one been different?

The ground shook again and Prompto yelped, scrambling away from the edge of the cliff. He glanced up and gaped. Was the meteor _moving_? “Ignis! You see that?”

“Indeed. Let’s make haste.” Ignis picked his way down from the sniper’s vantage point with all the grace of an Anak stag and continued his way downhill.

Prompto followed, taking more care with his footing.

The meteor shifted and surged, pushed upward by an arm easily as big as an entire wing of the Insomnian Citadel.

The sight nearly made Prompto lose his balance again. He managed to catch himself against a boulder, then yelped and jumped away at the heat. “What the…”

“The Archaean,” Ignis explained, his voice barely audible over the deafening rumbling coming from the direction of the giant. “If Titan’s awakened, we have less time than I anticipated. Hurry!”

Prompto didn’t need the reminder. He picked up the pace, sprinting after Ignis as quickly as he dared.

By the time they skidded down the last of the rocky slope, filthy and sweating like dogs, Noctis looked exhausted as he parried swings from the massive hand. The prince warped out of the way and screamed a curse as he slammed his Engine Blade against the rock-hard skin.

At least he was still alive.

“Did you miss us?” Prompto called as lightly as he could as he sprinted toward his friend. Maybe friendly banter would help him feel like everything was okay. Then again, they were fighting a god, so maybe “okay” was completely out of the question for now.

“Apologies,” Ignis added, throwing one of his daggers at the huge target.

Noctis didn’t reply. He warped after Titan’s hand as it lifted.

“Glad you made it,” Gladio panted, planting his broadsword in the dirt and leaning on it for a moment. He looked beat—bloodied scratches all over, his jacket torn, a nasty bruise developing across his chest—but he gave them a fierce smile. “Ready for this?”

“Not at all,” Prompto admitted with a weak little laugh. All the same, he summoned his weapons again and leapt forward, determined to help Noct.

Another batch of MTs dropped from the sky. Instead of attacking Prompto and his friends, though, they started firing some sort of vaguely-familiar harpoons at Titan. Prompto knew he’d never seen that kind of weapon before, so why did it seem like something he probably knew how to use?

No time to worry about it. The giant hand slammed down again, making everything shake so hard Prompto could barely keep his feet.

He stumbled, firing haphazardly into the air, and slammed into Ignis. “Crap. Sorry!”

“No time for apologies,” Ignis hissed, dragging Prompto out of the way of Titan’s questing fingers.

Noct was barely more than a flash of blue light as he warped from one place to another, striking as hard and fast as he could. Prompto didn’t have to be a genius to know his friend couldn’t keep up that pace much longer. They had to come up with a plan. Something to help.

_Ice._

Oh, great, another thought out of nowhere. But the last one had wound up being true. Maybe this one would, too. He grabbed Ignis’ arm as his companion stood. “Iggy! Do you have any of those magic flasks left? The ones Noct filled with ice?”

Ignis glanced down at him, brows furrowed and lips pursed. His hair had fallen out of place. The left earpiece of his glasses looked like it might fall off at any moment. Even disheveled and dirty, he was still handsome. “I believe so.”

“Let’s hit the big guy with ‘em,” Prompto instructed, pointing at the enormous fist barreling toward Noct.

Ignis grunted in reply, hauled Prompto to his feet, and shoved a cool glass flask into his hand. Then he was running toward Gladio without a word.

Prompto followed, his chest feeling like it might burst with all the running and stress. But he didn’t have time for a heart attack. They had to end this before Titan killed Noct.

The next time the hand slammed into the ground, Gladio yanked Noctis out of the way and the three of them hit the Archaean with the ice magic in one simultaneous burst, freezing his entire forearm solid.

“Now!” Ignis shouted.

Noct switched his Engine Blade for a broadsword. He brought it down in one intense arc.

The Archaean’s arm shattered, pitching the giant forward.

Prompto couldn’t help the incredulous little laugh that forced its way out of his throat. They’d made it! They’d defeated a god! They were still alive! He doubled over and braced himself on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath.

The relief was short-lived as Titan straightened again. Deafening, garbled words filled the air.

Noctis staggered and dropped to his knees, holding his head. After a moment, he glanced up and gasped, “That was…Luna. You spoke with her? That’s why—“

Titan didn’t give him time to finish the thought. The Astral glowed gold and disappeared in a burst of energy strong enough to knock Prompto backward.

As if he hadn’t fallen down enough today.

Before he could pull himself back to his feet, the ground rocked once more and the already-intense heat spiked even worse. Fissures opened in the rock around them, spewing lava into the air. Oh, crap.

“Get the hell up!” Gladiolus grabbed him and yanked him up, shoving him away from the liquid fire. “Move!”

The four of them ran as quickly as they could with all of them exhausted and wounded. They didn’t get far before a Niflheim airship descended in front of them.

“The Empire?” Ignis asked incredulously, a slight edge of hysteria in his normally perfectly composed voice. “Now?”

Prompto couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t known this ship was coming. If he’d been able to predict the others earlier and the fact that ice would hurt Titan like that, why hadn’t he been able to steer them out of this ship’s path?

The cargo door hissed as it opened.

Ardyn stood just at the top of the ramp, his heavy coat whipping in the wind from the engines. Prompto could hear his smirk as he called, “Fancy meeting you here! It occurs to me I never formally introduced myself. Izunia. Ardyn Izunia.”

Prompto’s shoulders tightened. That name didn’t mean anything to his conscious mind, but there was something deep inside that recognized it. Like it was _supposed_ to mean something.

“Imperial Chancellor Izunia?” Ignis’ voice was back to its collected normal self, but his stance still screamed that he was ready for another fight, if need be.

Gladio stiffened as well and Prompto could tell he was struggling not to summon his sword.

“At your service.” Ardyn threw his arms wide, as if inviting them to a party. “And, more importantly, to your aid.”

Prompto took a step forward before he could think. Ardyn was going to give them a lift out of here. Better than dying in the heat, right?

Gladio grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to stop.

Ardyn huffed as if he’d been offended. “I guarantee your safe passage. Though you’re always welcome to take your chances down there. Buried among the rubble, is it?”

Noct growled in the back of his throat.   

Prompto turned toward his friend, feeling torn. He didn’t want to die here, and something pulled him toward Ardyn. But it was Noct’s decision, as always.

“Dying here is not an option.” If Ignis was anyone else, he would have looked pained as he said it. As it was, his face just looked determined as he turned to look at the prince. “We have no choice, Noct.”

“I know.” Noct groaned and marched forward.

Gladio was the first to jump into the ship, followed by Ignis, then Noct and, finally, Prompto.

The metal of the ship’s ramp was blisteringly hot as Prompto hauled himself up. Once inside, he shook his hands out and stuck his fingers in his mouth, trying to cool them down. They tasted like salt and dirt and sweat, metallic and gross.

“And off we go,” Ardyn announced, casually hitting a button on the wall that closed the ramp.

The ship lurched and Prompto stumbled, catching himself on the nearest object—which, unfortunately, happened to be Ardyn’s shoulder. Flustered, he jumped away and spluttered apologies. He’d just tripped into the Imperial Chancellor, a guy who could make their lives even more of a hell than they’d been since Insomnia fell.

Instead of the expected anger, though, Ardyn chuckled and leaned close. His breath gusted hot against Prompto’s cheeks as he whispered, “battle left you feeling a bit _empty_ , hm?”

Prompto shivered and took half a step backward.

Ignis’ arm draped itself elegantly over Prompto’s shoulders, pulling Prompto against him. “Excuse me, Chancellor. Mind if I borrow Prompto for a moment?”

“Not at all.” Ardyn smiled and motioned toward the rest of the cargo bay. “The ship is at your disposal until we land.”

Ignis nodded and firmly steered Prompto away from the Chancellor, toward the bench against the wall where Gladio and Noct were already sprawled. He urged Prompto to sit beside Noct without a word, then dropped down beside him, elbows braced on his knees, eyes on Ardyn.

“Anyone else got a bad feeling about this?” Gladio asked in an undertone, wiping blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Hush,” Ignis muttered without looking at him. “We’ll discuss this in private.”

Ardyn chuckled from his place near the ramp door. “Oh, do feel free to chat amongst yourselves. Don’t mind me.”

Ignis shook his head just a fraction.

Prompto wanted nothing more than to lean on Ignis’ shoulder and fall asleep, but with everything going on, he didn’t think that would be a great idea. He had a feeling Ignis would want information on what happened on that hill at some point. Information he didn’t have. That conversation was going to be awful whenever Ignis decided it needed to happen. Ugh.

He leaned back against the wall, the metal refreshingly cool against his bare shoulders. His left hand closed over his right wrist again, pressing the bracelet against his skin. When had the barcode stopped hurting altogether? It wasn’t even tingling any more. He resisted the urge to pull the bracelet up and look at it again. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to catch a glimpse just because he was freaking out.

“Where are you taking us?” Noctis asked after a long moment, his voice low and tired.

Ardyn chuckled. The thump of his shoes echoed in the large, empty cargo bay as he approached the bench. “Somewhere quite safe. I did give you my word, after all.”

“Answer the damn question,” Gladio growled.

Ignis cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Somewhere, shall we say, that I believe was already on your route.” The Chancellor smirked as he passed. The hem of his coat brushed against Prompto’s boots and Prompto started as if he’d been shocked, pulling his legs up to his chest. That only seemed to make Ardyn smirk wider. “A quaint little rest stop of sorts that I’ve heard one of your party is keen to visit.”

Gladio scowled and curled his hands into fists in his lap, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Could’ve sworn the paparazzi went down with Insomnia,” Noctis grumbled. He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, scowling.

Ardyn chuckled again. “Ah, the tabloids aren’t the only source of information, Your Highness.”

Prompto didn’t want to think about what Ardyn meant by that, or why his eyes had flickered in Prompto’s direction for a split second. His stomach twisted in on itself and he rested his forehead against his drawn-up knees. He wasn’t a spy. He’d never give information to the Empire, no matter what Ardyn was implying. He’d remember it if he had.

Wouldn’t he?

His fingers dug into the inside of his wrist as he tightened his hold over the bracelet. He was Lucian. He was Noct’s friend. He was a new member of the Crownsguard. He’d just gotten lucky with those guesses. That was all. The heat of battle had made his mind work in different ways than normal. It wasn’t anything more than that.

Right?

But they hadn’t been guesses. He’d known they were true, without knowing how. They’d just been facts in his brain, dropped there like marbles in the snow. And there’d been that moment when he’d frozen up, unable to force himself to move. What the hell had that been? How was it tied to everything else?

And, more importantly, how in the name of the Six did he make sure it never happened again?


	6. The Blur of Feathers

Ardyn’s ship left them at the Chocobo Post, but not even the sight of his favorite animal in the world cheered Prompto up. He stared at the fluffy yellow birds happily munching on piles of greens under their awnings, and tried not to feel sick.

Three days ago, he’d been excited to come here on a kind-of date with Ignis. Now, he wasn’t sure Ignis was ever going to talk to him again, and his brain was going to explode from all the questions piling up inside it. And, to top it all off, it was pouring—and not the warm, comforting rain from Alstor, either, but a freezing onslaught that might have been a relief from the heat of the Disc if it hadn’t echoed the cold numbness inside Prompto’s chest so very well.

Noct tried to coax him into the caravan to rest with him and Gladio, but Prompto refused with a fake smile and an overly excited gesture to the chocobos, claiming he wanted to stay and watch them for a while before turning in. The prince gave him a weird look, but didn’t press.

Prompto leaned against the rail of the chocobo pen for Astrals knew how long, halfheartedly offering the gysahl leaf someone had shoved into his hand. He wasn’t even surprised the creature ignored him. Seemed about right.

The freezing rain suddenly stopped pounding on his shoulders. He blinked and glanced up, surprised. A chocobo-printed umbrella was held above him, the water making strange shadows on the vinyl, almost like the printed birds were crying.

“I imagine it would be quite useless to suggest you come inside,” Ignis said quietly from behind him. The umbrella shifted, bringing a dapper silver glove into view.

Prompto chuckled weakly and turned his gaze back to the preening bird. At least Ignis was behind him. That made it easier to avoid looking at his expression. “Noct and Gladio asleep already?”

Ignis hummed quietly in agreement, but said nothing.

The rain pattered on the umbrella, the rough sound mingling with the shuffling and cooing of the chocobos.

“Hard to get photos in the rain,” Prompto said, just to fill the silence. It didn’t even matter. He’d left his camera in the trunk of the Regalia when they’d headed into the Disc, and now the car was missing, camera and camp gear included. He supposed he could try to get some pics with his phone camera, but the low clouds and the rain would freak it out and the images would come out horrible.

Ignis continued his silence. He shifted his stance though, and his elbow brushed gently against Prompto’s shoulder for a fraction of a second.

The silence drove Prompto crazy. What was Ignis thinking? Why wouldn’t he say something? Was he pissed? Was he disappointed? Was he trying to figure out how to ask Prompto to leave the group? Were they ever going to talk again?

Prompto swallowed hard and grabbed at his wrist without thinking, the pressure of the bracelet digging into his skin oddly relaxing. “Ignis…I…”

“You ought to stop traipsing around in the rain without a jacket,” Ignis muttered. “I’m beginning to think you didn’t bring one for the journey.”

“All our stuff’s gone anyway.” Prompto forced a chuckle and shrugged. He turned the gysahl leaf in his fingers, watching water droplets roll off it and splatter in the bedding hay. “Couldn’t put one on even if I’d packed it.”

The silence shifted, growing even more tense. The umbrella moved, spattering Prompto with freezing water that made him yelp, and Ignis’ hand grabbed his arm, too firm to squirm out of.

Prompto squeaked again as Ignis began to tug him toward the Chocobo Post souvenir shop. “Ignis! What the hell?”

Ignis didn’t speak until they were on the wide wooden porch, sheltered under the overhang. He set the umbrella down beside a bench, all elegant grace, then whipped around without warning and took hold of both of Prompto’s shoulders, his grip nearly bruising with its strength. His eyes were narrow behind his rain-splattered glasses, lips drawn into a firm line. When he spoke, his voice was tight and low, almost as gruff as Gladio’s. “Prompto, I’m only going to say this once, so do pay attention. You’re entirely too smart to pull stunts like this. Cor and I gave you a suggested packing list before we left Insomnia, and I’m certain ‘warmer layers’ was on it. Given your adherence to the rest of the list, I can only deduce the failure to bring a coat of some nature was an intentional oversight. Which seems to indicate you’ve some desire—known or unknown—to make yourself miserable, especially when combined with allowing yourself to become rather an easy target for that sniper. And don’t think I haven’t noticed _that_.”

Prompto’s stomach flipped over as Ignis glanced pointedly to his hand clutching at his wrist again. Without his conscious permission, his fingers unclenched and his arm fell back to his side. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but it’s plain that you’re keeping something from us. Noctis trusts you, Prompto. Do not betray that.” Ignis’ fingers squeezed tighter, then released altogether, gently pushing Prompto toward the bench.

Prompto stumbled and fell hard onto the cold wood. It creaked under the sudden weight, but he barely noticed as he stared up at Ignis. His heart thudded at the base of his throat, blocking the words running wild in his head. He hadn’t missed that Ignis had very specifically said that _Noct_ trusted him. Did Ignis not trust him any more? Had Ignis ever really trusted him? Had Gladio? And now he’d done something completely out of his control that had—

“Stop that,” Ignis snapped. He leaned over, taking Prompto’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look back up. “Don’t withdraw and cower. You’re safe here. But I need to know what’s going on. Why you wish to harm yourself. What you’re hiding. I told you once that we need you at your best. That still stands, but I’ve come to believe we haven’t even seen half of what your best is, due to this lingering issue. Prompto…I know you want to help Noctis. I want to help you do so. But first and foremost you have to help yourself. I can aid you in that—and I’d very much like to—but you must take the first step and _talk to me_.”

Prompto searched his face for a long moment, trying to force the jumble of his mind into something vaguely resembling coherent thoughts. Ignis wasn’t angry at him for what had happened at the Disc? Well, he was, but only for freezing up and almost getting himself shot. Not because he’d predicted the Empire’s approach. Or was this just a diversion? Some kind of lead up to the real argument? He swallowed and licked rainwater off his lips. “Iggy…I…it’s not…”

Ignis released Prompto’s chin and straightened, pulling his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Stay here. Collect your thoughts. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He was walking away before Prompto could respond, his steps crisp and precise as he marched into the souvenir shop. The merry jingle of the bell over the door sounded like it belonged to a completely different world.

Prompto stared straight ahead, blindly watching the chocobos shake water off their bright feathers and nip playfully at each other with their big beaks. Get his thoughts in order. Easier said than done. Ignis had pinpointed his biggest secret without even trying. He’d thought he’d hidden it so well, but Ignis had seen straight through him and was demanding answers. Answers he didn’t even have for himself. He was hiding the barcode, sure, but he still didn’t know what it meant, or what had happened at the Disc, or why he was always so certain he wasn’t good enough to deserve nice things. Like friends. He seriously didn’t deserve Noct or Ignis or Gladio as friends. Especially not now. But Ignis said he wanted to help…

By the time Ignis returned, the rain had redoubled and Prompto had somehow managed to convince himself to tell Ignis everything. That didn’t mean the thought didn’t terrify him, of course. He glanced up at the familiar footsteps, opened his mouth, and let out an odd little strangled noise at the sight of the bag Ignis held out to him.

“I thought we didn’t have much gil left,” Prompto whispered, the protest more habit than anything. He awkwardly accepted the bag and pulled out the item inside. It was a bright yellow chocobo costume pullover, with shaped felt feathers on the hood and sleeves, and a little puffy tail near the bottom hem on the back. Just the kind of thing he would have worn in high school if he’d had more money and hadn’t been trying so hard to fit in. He made another weird noise—gods, he was pathetic—somewhere between a laugh, a whine, and a hopeless sob. “Ignis…”

“Put it on,” Ignis demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He pulled the to-go coffee cup off the top of the can of Ebony he held in his other hand, but didn’t offer either to Prompto. “I won’t have you intentionally catching cold out here.”

Prompto blinked up at him for a moment, fidgeting with the pull string for the hood. He thought about protesting, but the words died in his throat at the stern look on Ignis’ face. Okay, fine. He yanked the sweatshirt on and was surprised by how warm and fuzzy the insides were. It felt how he imagined a hug from Ignis might feel—incredibly soft and comforting. The sweatshirt itself was about two sizes too big, but that only made it more cozy. He pulled his knees up to his chest and worked the hem of the shirt down to his ankles, popping the hood over his head to enfold himself in as much gentle warmth as possible. “Um. Thank you.”

Ignis grunted softly and finally offered the to-go cup. “You enjoy hot chocolate, if I recall correctly?”

“Perfect memory, as always,” Prompto muttered. He reluctantly accepted the cup and took a careful sip. Ignis had even remembered the whipped cream. It wasn’t the best hot chocolate he’d ever had, but it was still…comforting. Why was Ignis going out of his way to comfort him like this when he normally carefully counted every gil? He definitely didn’t deserve it, and Ignis had sounded so angry just a few moments ago.

He carefully licked a bit of stray whipped cream off the rim of his cup and picked at the cardboard sleeve to avoid looking back up. “Um. Ignis? I don’t…I don’t get why you’re being so… _nice_ to me when I messed up so bad.”

A moment of perfect stillness made Prompto’s chest tighten again. Had he said something dumb?

Ignis sighed softly and lowered himself to sit on the bench beside Prompto, mostly hidden from sight by the edge of Prompto’s new hood. The Ebony can popped as he opened it. Finally, he said, “I must apologize for my outburst. I know you don’t respond well to such coarseness—your reactions to Gladio’s training is evidence enough of that—but I have little patience for those who would put Noctis in danger.”

“I didn’t—” Prompto started, but cut himself off at the soft, irritated noise Ignis made.

“Not directly, no. But by allowing yourself to indulge these self-destructive habits, you created an opening the Empire might easily exploit, if they have a mind. And I’m afraid Chancellor Izunia quite adeptly picked up on that.” Ignis rolled the can between his palms, the motion just visible in Prompto’s peripheral vision. “I allowed my own fear to overcome me momentarily and, for that, I am terribly sorry. But the fact remains: if you wish to remain by Noct’s side, you need to put an end to this line of thought. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I imagine you’ll need aid for that. Gladio can be quite rough and is much better suited to matters of physical training and high literature theorems than to emotional upsets. Noctis is too close to the matter, and I imagine you’ve no wish to add to the responsibilities on his plate. Which leaves me. But you must trust that I’ve only your best interests at heart.”

Prompto stared at the lid of his cup. “I don’t want you to help just because you feel obligated or something.”

Ignis snorted indelicately. “The only time I do something from sheer obligation is when His Highness does something exceedingly reckless and expects me to play along.”

“Maybe helping me _is_ exceedingly reckless.” Prompto whispered it and quickly sipped his hot chocolate, like the motion could help shove the words back into his mouth. It only succeeded in burning his tongue.

One of the chocobos shrieked and jumped, very nearly clearing its fence.

The can of Ebony clicked quietly as Ignis set it on the armrest of the bench. He leaned forward until his face cleared the edge of Prompto’s hood, pinched in concern. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“I knew the Empire was coming,” Prompto whispered, unable to meet Ignis’ gaze. “I don’t know how, but…I knew. Like someone had told me. And that sniper. I didn’t…I didn’t try to make myself a target. I was going to take it out, but I just…froze up. I couldn’t move at all. Not to shoot, or run, or scream—nada. And with Titan, I…the ice thing? I only thought of that after those MTs showed up. It’s like…it’s like those nightmares are all real. The ones about me…being a Niff.”

“There’s likely some other explanation,” Ignis replied quietly.

Prompto shook his head. He wanted to sink into the depths of his new hoodie and never come out. Or maybe transform into a chocobo for real and not have to deal with any of this ever again. But that wasn’t going to happen. Just…get it over with. Rip off the band-aid. “No. I…I think I might be. For real.”

“Your birth documentation is flawless. You were born in Insomnia, October 25th, at the District 17 Hospital. I’ve seen the records myself.” Ignis’s voice was quiet but firm. “Any concern over being a citizen of the Empire is simply a nightmare.”

Carefully, before he spilled it as his hands began to shake, Prompto set his hot chocolate aside. No one except his parents knew about the tattoo on his wrist. He’d kept it hidden for so long. But if he was going to let Ignis help him—and he knew he desperately needed the help—then Ignis deserved to know what he was getting into. Hesitantly, he pushed his sleeve up. “The problem is that I…really don’t think I was. I’ve got this…um. Back at the Disc, when I tripped that first time and…and you wanted to use a potion on my wrist? It wasn’t…I don’t think it would have done anything. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”

Removing the bracelet felt like peeling a layer off his own skin. He held his breath as he undid the snaps, dug his teeth into his lip as he pulled the black leather off his wrist. The stark black lines stared up at him, accusing and angry and bared to the rain-washed light. The sight of it made bile crawl up his throat and he desperately swallowed it back.

“A barcode,” Ignis said flatly. His hand gently took Prompto’s and lifted it for a closer look.

The warmth of Ignis’ breath on his skin made Prompto shudder and try to pull his hand back, but Ignis held it in place.

“This is what was causing you pain?” Ignis asked quietly, barely audible over the rain and the squawks of the chocobos.

Prompto swallowed hard and nodded. His hood fell down over his eyes and he pushed it back with his free hand. “Y-yeah…it just…started burning all of the sudden. It’s never done that before…”

“I see.” Ignis’ thumb very softly ran over the edge of the barcode, gliding over the little diamonds and the barely visible numerals inside.

Prompto shivered and tried to pull away again. This time, Ignis let him. He quickly replaced the bracelet and tugged his sleeve down. After a moment, he pulled his arms out of the sleeves completely and wrapped them around his stomach, hugging himself tight in the fuzzy confines of his new sweatshirt. “So, uh…yeah. That’s what I…I’ve been hiding, I guess. Not exactly something I want to talk about, you know?”

“I should have seen it,” Ignis whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

Prompto stiffened. Should have seen that he wasn’t what he thought he was? Should have seen that he was probably working for the Empire somehow? Should have seen _what_?

“You kept trying to tell me and I dismissed your fears as irrelevant,” Ignis said as if he was talking to himself. He sat perfectly still for a moment, head in his hands. Then, with a breath, he slipped off the bench and knelt in front of Prompto, taking the empty sleeves as he might have taken Prompto’s hands. “I must apologize. Sincerely. I’ve been a downright fool, and the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do was harm you. Alas, I believe I have. Most deeply.”

A confused blush crept up the back of Prompto’s neck. Ignis was apologizing to him? But he was the one who’d been lying and hiding things and could have put them in danger! He was the one who might somehow be working for Niflheim without knowing it! “N-no, I…you didn’t…it was…you don’t need to apologize. You just…you didn’t know, so…it’s not like you could’ve done anything.”

Ignis shook his head and sat back on his heels, still holding Prompto’s sleeves. “I thought it odd you were so concerned with that line of thought, and I didn’t press as I should have. I could have helped you avoid so much pain over the last few weeks. I’m so sorry, Prompto.”

“But you did!” Prompto blurted emphatically. He shoved his arms back into the sleeves to grab Ignis’ hands through the cloth, holding on as tightly as he dared. “You helped a lot, Iggy. Seriously. I’m a wreck, and you listened anyway. And you took out that sniper for me, and…and everything. And, I mean, it’s not like I let you dig anyway. I was…I thought if you knew, you’d….”

“Turn away?” Ignis guessed quietly. His eyes held understanding Prompto had never imagined, and a deep sadness that made him look younger than he was. “Had I not known you as well as I do, I might have. But I’ve watched you and Noct both grow into fine young men, and I simply can’t fathom you willingly betraying him. Or any of us, for that matter. Regardless of whether or not you were born within our borders, your heart belongs in Lucis.”

Prompto felt like he’d been doing almost nothing but crying recently, but the tears burned the backs of his eyes again. He blinked, letting them fall, and inhaled sharply. “Y-you mean it?”

Ignis nodded and gently squeezed Prompto’s hands. “I do.”

“But back at the Disc, when I couldn’t shoot that MT…”

“You said you couldn’t physically move. Perhaps there is a deeper conundrum we must examine.” Ignis’ distant thoughtful expression slid onto his face: his eyes unfocused a little behind his lenses, his head tilted just a bit to the side, and his cheek sucked in as if he was chewing on it. “You had no problems dispatching magitek soldiers before that battle, so something must have changed between our last skirmish and that one. You said your wrist had never hurt before—when did it begin?”

Prompto swallowed and thought back over the last few days. Finally, he muttered, “When we were talking to Ardyn in Lestallum. I mean, it felt like it was tingling or something, and the pain didn’t really get bad ‘till I fell, but…yeah.”

“The Chancellor. Hm.” Ignis frowned, his eyes seemingly focused on the ties of Prompto’s hoodie. “That could pose quite an impressive problem.”

“You seriously think he could have something to do with this?” Prompto’s voice cracked at that thought, his breath caught in his throat. He’d had suspicions Ardyn might have done something to him at the overlook, but the man had never touched him. He’d just smirked and winked. But the timing was too weird to ignore.

Ignis hummed quietly. “I won’t discount the possibility, but it’s hard to say until we have more information.”

Prompto let out a little, incredulous laugh. More information? How the hell were they going to find more information about some mysterious barcode, an inexplicable pain, and randomly knowing things he shouldn’t have known?

“Hm?” Ignis’ eyes snapped back into focus and he blinked at Prompto. “What is it?”

“I just…didn’t expect you to really want to…help.” Prompto shook his head, making the hood fall into his eyes again. He reluctantly pried one hand out of Ignis’ hold to shove it back and wipe his face with his sleeve. “Do you really think we can figure it out without telling Noct and Gladio?”

Ignis’ head tilted again for a brief moment before he nodded. “I believe it’s possible. We’ll need to be careful, but we should be able to examine a magitek soldier the next time we encounter one—see if we can glean any clues—and not even Noctis knows the encryption for my phone. You’ve proved adept at keeping secrets as well, so as long as we watch ourselves, it should be more than doable.”

Prompto snorted and wiped habitually at his face again. “You figured it out, so I’m not all that good at keeping secrets, I guess.”

“I’m simply more observant than our companions,” Ignis replied with just the barest hint of a smile. “Not to mention, I rather enjoy observing you.”

Prompto squeaked and convulsively yanked his hood back down to hide his face before Ignis could notice his blush deepening. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Ignis chuckled softly. He gently pushed Prompto’s sleeve up just enough to reveal his fingertips and pressed a very soft kiss to the exposed knuckles. “I regret that our little respite has been anything but relaxing so far.”

“Wait, you…you don’t…think I’m freak or something?” Prompto lifted his head just enough to see Ignis’ mouth turn up in a gentle, indulgent smile.

“Quite the opposite.” Ignis shifted and reached up to push the hood back off Prompto’s head completely, his hand gently smoothing Prompto’s mussed hair. “You’re a delightful puzzle. Every time I think I have you figured out, you provide me with another question to be answered.”

Prompto smiled, a little surprised by how genuine it felt. “You love puzzles.”

“I do.” Ignis slid his hand down to cup Prompto’s cheek in his palm, his glove cool and wet again Prompto’s skin. “Do you trust me to help?”

Prompto swallowed hard and considered the question. He trusted Ignis. Of course he did. Ignis, who was sweet and soft and funny and always looking after the rest of them. Ignis, who had driven him to the hospital when he’d broken his arm in high school and his parents couldn’t get out of their meetings. Ignis, who had kept secrets for him and Noct, and taken the blame for them when they’d done dumb stuff. Ignis, who had taken his tattoo in stride and still kissed his hand. Ignis, who had just promised to lie to Noctis to keep Prompto’s secrets safe. How could he not trust Ignis?

So why had it been so hard to tell him? Why did the question make him feel like his stomach was trying to climb out of his throat by way of his lungs? “Y-yeah…of course I do.”

“Then please tell me the next time something feels odd.” Ignis’ thumb traced gentle, hypnotic circles under Prompto’s eye. “If we can pinpoint a trigger, we may be able to extrapolate from there.”

“Noct’ll want to know what’s up,” Prompto whispered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he lost himself in the warmth and comfort of Ignis’ touch and the soft pullover.

Ignis hummed quietly. “We’ll develop a code of sorts. Perhaps some maneuver with your pistols, or some mention of _King’s Knight_?”

“I already do that.” Prompto chuckled weakly. He would have shaken his head if he didn’t think Ignis would have pulled away. He wanted that soft touch to go on forever.

“A specific one, then. Perhaps a mention of the character ranking system. You and Gladio haven’t argued over that for a bit.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Prompto would have agreed to anything in that moment. Talking about the character rankings in _King’s Knight_ seemed like a perfectly reasonable way to alert Ignis to any weird not-quite-himself moments in the near future. Never mind that it would probably get them looks from Noct and Gladio if it happened in the middle of a battle, or that it might be distracting while they fought. That didn’t really matter right now. All that mattered was Ignis’ hand on his cheek, Ignis’ voice so close and gentle, Ignis’ cologne seeping into the chocobo pullover.

The soft moment went on and on and Prompto almost whined aloud when Ignis finally pulled away.

“A moment,” Ignis murmured. He straightened, grabbed his can of Ebony from the bench, and downed it in a single gulp. Then, against all odds, he leaned down to press a quick butterfly kiss to Prompto’s forehead, and slipped back into the shop.

Prompto stared wide-eyed at the chocobos again, struggling to process what had just happened. Ignis had kissed him twice in less than five minutes, and just disappeared without a word. And that after revealing his barcode and the fact that he was seriously concerned about being a Niff. _What_?

When Ignis returned this time, he held two small yellow tickets and two plastic packages. He smiled gently and offered one of the packages to Prompto. “For the rain.”

Prompto frowned as he carefully opened the package and unfolded the poncho. All the same, he slipped it on over his hoodie, pulling up both hoods even though it felt totally ridiculous. “What’re we doing in the rain?”

“Riding chocobos,” Ignis replied as if the answer should have been obvious. His soft smile widened as Prompto spluttered.

“R-really?!”

Ignis nodded and offered one of the tickets. “We’re already here. We might as well enjoy what time we can get. And I did make you a promise.”

Prompto jumped off the bench and threw himself at Ignis, wrapping himself around the taller man in a tight hug. He didn’t particularly care that someone might see, or that Ignis wasn’t prepared. The hug needed to happen. It just did. Ignis was so damn wonderful, and Prompto had no idea what he’d done to deserve his attention.

Ignis chuckled and returned the embrace, resting his cheek against Prompto’s temple. The corner of his glasses bit into Prompto’s forehead, but neither of them cared.

“Come now,” Ignis said after a long moment, gingerly extracting himself from Prompto’s arms. “We should go before the storm worsens.”

Prompto waited just long enough for Ignis to pull his poncho on before dragging his companion back out into the rain.

They handed their tickets to the miserable-looking attendant near the enclosure, who instructed them on how to mount the chocobos and how to guide them. Ignis asked if they could both ride a single bird, which made Prompto blush again, and the attendant agreed, as long as they didn’t gallop or go too far from the Post.

Ignis helped Prompto up into the saddle, then climbed up behind him and reached around him to take hold of the reins. He was warm and solid against Prompto’s back, even through the layers of clothes between them, and that small contact combined with the feeling of finally sitting in a chocobo saddle helped ease the tension out of Prompto’s muscles.

Until the bird leapt into motion, even faster than Prompto had expected.

He yelped despite himself and wrapped his arms around the chocobo’s neck, pressing his cheek into the soft feathers. They blurred his vision around the edges, turning the world soft and yellow as they surged forward.

Ignis’ laugh behind him was hearty and honest and beautiful.

Something in Prompto’s heart squeezed at the sound and he twisted around to look at Ignis as best he could. He looked honestly ridiculous with the clear plastic poncho over his immaculate Crownsguard uniform, smashing down his perfectly groomed hair, water dripping from the hood and down his long nose. It was so rare to see him honestly enjoying himself that Prompto couldn’t do anything but smile like an idiot.

Maybe—despite the world crashing down around them, despite whatever was happening with his brain and his wrist—maybe things could work out after all.


	7. The Blur of Laughter

Surprisingly enough, Prompto’s unexpected good mood continued through the next day as they followed Gentiana’s instructions for Noct to get the Hexatheon’s blessing. He stayed close to Ignis, wrapped up in his new chocobo hoodie and the cheap poncho. Once or twice, he caught himself reaching for Ignis’ hand without thinking and quickly yanked his hand back before they made contact. Noct was already teasing him about the pullover; he didn’t want to give his friend more ammo if he could help it. At least Prompto could brag that he was still dry and warm, unlike Noct and Gladio.

Even getting kidnapped by a naga in the dark didn’t completely ruin his mood. For the first time since Insomnia fell, he felt like he could actually believe he was okay again. It was seriously weird how much a chocobo ride and some quick, shy kisses to his hand and forehead could erase his worries so expertly, even though the Empire was still wreaking havoc on the countryside. Ignis’ presence, the soft warmth of the hoodie, the knowledge that someone else knew about his nightmares and the barcode—it all helped ease the knot in his stomach, helped him stop fixating so completely on the fact that he might not be what he’d always thought he was.

He tried not to think about it too much as they finally made their way back into the daylight after Noctis made allies with Ramuh. Instead, he stretched expansively, wincing at the pop in his shoulder, and grinned up at the sky. He shoved the hood of his poncho and sweatshirt back, scrubbing his fingers through his hair to fluff it up again. Damn, it felt good to be in the sunlight again.

“Are you certain you’re all right?” Ignis asked for the tenth time since they’d taken out the creepy human-faced snake.

Prompto laughed, purposefully ignoring the weird look Noct shot him. “Yeah, Iggy, I’m fine. I mean, a little bruised maybe, but it’s not like we’ve gotta bust out the potions or anything. Seriously, stop worrying.”

Ignis pursed his lips, looking supremely unconvinced.

Prompto giggled again despite himself. When Noct’s phone rang and the prince turned away to answer it, Prompto took the risk to bounce up on his tiptoes and kiss Ignis’ cheek. Of course, as he lowered himself back down, he realized Gladio was watching them with a smirk.

“About damn time,” Gladio grumbled, laughter in his rough voice.

Ignis adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

Prompto’s face felt like it might spontaneously combust. “Gladio!”

The Shield’s smirk widened and he clapped Prompto on the shoulder with enough force to rattle his teeth. “What, you seriously think I’ve been friends with Iggy here for like a decade and he never told me who he’s got a crush on?”

“Wh-what?” Prompto spluttered, glancing between the two taller men. Ignis had told Gladio he had a crush on him? When? _How?!_

Gladio snickered and ruffled Prompto’s hair. “Calm down, kid. All he said was—”

“ _Gladio_ ,” Ignis interrupted firmly, looking at the Shield over the rims of his glasses. “Is now really the time?”

He laughed again and held his big hands up in defeat.

“Cindy found the car,” Noctis announced, sounding more confused than triumphant. He glanced between all three of them, clearly waiting for something. “You guys wanna fill me in here? ‘Cause Prom looks like one of Sania’s dumb red frogs, and it’s been ages since I’ve seen Gladio’s shit-eating grin like that. So, what’s going on?”

Ignis sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Did Cindy say where the Empire took the Regalia?”

“Yeah.” Noct huffed, shifted his weight, and folded his arms. “But I’m not saying until you tell me what’s going on.”

Prompto recognized the prince’s most stubborn expression and took a half step closer to Ignis without thinking. If Noct really wanted to know what was going on, all it would take was a direct order and Ignis would fold like the royal servant he was. So much for not giving Noctis more ammo to tease him.

Surprisingly, Gladio was the one who saved the moment. He dropped one big arm over Noct’s shoulders and scrubbed the knuckles of his other hand through the prince’s already-messy hair. “Don’t worry about it, Noct. I told one of my patented awful jokes.”

“The ones that need like an hour of explanation?” Noctis groaned, shoving ineffectually at Gladio. “Get off me, dude.”

Gladio laughed but released the prince.

“It was quite an impressively awful joke,” Ignis said smoothly, tugging on the hems of his driving gloves, back to his usual composed self. “Shall we go retrieve the Regalia before the Empire decides to destroy it for us?”

Prompto could have kissed him again for distracting Noct. Instead, he just nodded emphatically. “Yeah. The sooner we get the car back, the sooner we can get all this over with.”

“Whatever.” Noctis rolled his eyes but gave Prompto another weird look as he shrugged. He tapped on his phone, then offered it to Ignis. “Cindy sent directions.”

Ignis studied the screen a moment, then nodded slowly and handed the phone back. “Aracheole Stronghold. I believe there’s a Haven not far. It might be wise to rest up before attempting infiltration.”

Noct mumbled agreement as he slipped the phone back in his pocket.

“Can we get there before sundown?” Gladio asked, squinting up into the empty blue sky. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon. They had spent almost a full day in that cave.

Ignis glanced up as well, hummed quietly, and said, “I believe so, if we avoid distractions on the road.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Prompto asked, bouncing back toward where they’d left the chocobos. “Let’s get out of here before the daemons come out!”

They mounted their birds and turned toward the stronghold.

Prompto loved the feeling of riding the chocobo—the leather of the reins warm and supple in his fingers, the bird’s gait jostling him in the saddle, every now and then a brush of soft feathers against his cheek—but it still wasn’t quite as thrilling as riding with Ignis. Which, of course, was a thought he couldn’t let himself dwell on if he wanted to avoid making Noct even more suspicious that something was going on.

Gladio fell back beside Prompto, smirking widely, as Noct and Ignis took the lead. “So, how long’s it been, huh?”

Prompto’s hands jerked on the reins and his chocobo shrieked as it spread its wings and skidded to slow down. He swallowed and urged it to catch up with his friend again. “What?”

“You and Iggy,” Gladio clarified with a low laugh, motioning with his chin toward Ignis up ahead. “Always imagined I’d be able to tell when things changed, but I guess you guys are better at hiding stuff than I thought. So how long’s it been?”

“Uh.” Prompto drew the single syllable out as long as he possibly could as he tried to think of an answer. Were he and Ignis dating? Officially? Ignis had kissed his hand a couple of times, and technically the chocobo ride had been a date, but did that really count as being boyfriends or something?

Gladio laughed again. “Sounds like a great relationship you got going there.”

“It is!” Prompto protested, a little louder than he had anticipated. So what if they hadn’t figured out what they were calling themselves yet? So what if it had only been a few hesitant kisses and a hug and a chocobo costume hoodie? Whatever his relationship with Ignis was shaping up to be, it was Ignis’ gentle smiles and soft touches that were keeping Prompto upbeat and capable of facing whatever came their way. “I mean…it will be. We’re just…it’s not…it’s…complicated?”

“So, like, a week?” Gladio guessed, still smirking widely.

Prompto spluttered and only managed to resist pulling his hood over his eyes by keeping his hands clamped firmly on the reins. A week. Wow, a week seemed so long ago. “N-not exactly….”

The chocobos’ wide feet clicked on the road as they trotted after Ignis and Noct, who seemed blissfully unaware of the awkwardness behind them.

“So either I’m worse at observation than I think I am, or this is really new.” Gladio’s smirk faded into a thoughtful frown as he drew his bird closer to Prompto’s. The weight of his gaze felt like a chickatrice bouncing on Prompto’s chest.  After a long moment, he snorted and added, “I’m going to bet on the new thing, if you’re still turning red like that.”

Prompto groaned and ducked his head, even though he knew it would do nothing to hide the blush that Gladio had already noticed.

“He’s not still waiting for you to make a move, is he? And that little kiss on the cheek earlier doesn’t count.”

Prompto’s head shot up and he blinked at Gladio in bewilderment. Ignis was waiting for him to make a move? Since when? _How much had Ignis told Gladio?!_ “I…what?”

Gladio craned his head back and sighed at the sky in exasperation. “You two are hopeless.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prompto asked, his voice far squeakier than he would have liked. He slowed his chocobo down a little more to put just a bit more space between them and the other two.

Gladio shrugged. “Exactly what it sounds like. You’ve had a crush on Iggy for, what, three, four years?”  

Prompto spluttered again. Gladio had known he’d had a crush on Ignis for that long? How? He hadn’t even realized it himself that long ago.

“And Iggy’s had his eye on you since you graduated,” Gladio continued, apparently unaffected by the awkward fumbled attempt at words. “We’ve been on the road for a good month now and you _still_ haven’t jumped his bones, even though I’ve been keeping Noct busy for you. Tell me how that isn’t hopeless.”

“Jump his…Gladio, that’s not—I mean, sure, maybe, but—I didn’t even know he liked me back until a couple weeks ago!”

Prompto didn’t realize how loudly he’d said it until Ignis turned in the saddle to give them a concerned look. Which, of course, only made Prompto blush even more and dip his head again, wishing he had a third hand to pull up his hood and hide completely.

“Didn’t know who liked you?” Noct asked lazily, glancing back as well.

Prompto groaned. It was more than just not realizing Ignis liked him back. He hadn’t really believed anyone could have been romantically interested in him, especially not perfect, handsome, brilliant Ignis. But that was even more embarrassing and awful to admit, especially to someone like Gladio or Noct, who both had always had friends, always been awesome, always had people drooling over them. “Forget about it. It’s nothing. Seriously.”

“Prompto,” Noctis said in that casually pressing tone he normally reserved for asking to copy homework. The tone that meant he was ready to keep asking until Prompto gave in, even if it involved bribes of Ignis’ cooking, or arcade time. Neither of which were great bribes at the moment, since Ignis cooked for all of them now and the arcade no longer existed, but Prompto was sure Noct would come up with something else.

He groaned and pulled his chocobo to a stop, burying his face in the bird’s soft feathers. Okay. He could do this. It was just admitting to his best friend that he was kind of almost maybe dating his best friend’s advisor. No big deal. Easier than admitting he thought he might be a Niff, right?

“We’ve no time to dally on the road,” Ignis’ soft voice put in. “Surely this conversation can wait until we’ve reached the Haven?”

“You’re not curious, Specs?” Noct asked over the click of chocobo talons. “Last I heard, Prom was head-over-heels for Cindy.”

Ignis cleared his throat. “Is it really something worth risking an encounter with a daemon, Highness?”

“Iggy’s right,” Gladio said. “We can’t stop moving.”

“Then you two go ahead,” Noctis suggested, his voice closer than it had been a minute ago.

Prompto groaned into his chocobo’s neck again. There was no getting out of it this time. He’d have to tell Noct everything. Well, everything about him and Ignis, at least. There were still things he wasn’t quite ready to admit about his nightmares, the barcode, and all of the mind-blowing weirdness that went with it.

Ignis huffed one of his soft, exasperated sighs. “Noct. Perhaps it’s wise to allow Prompto his private life?”

“Perhaps it’s wise to move your asses?” Noctis replied and Prompto could practically hear the irritated princely expression on his face. “We’ll be right behind you, so don’t worry about us.”

Prompto finally peeled away from his chocobo’s feathers and rubbed his hands over his face. He could do this. Noct wasn’t going to let it go this time. When he finally dropped his hands, he realized Ignis was watching him with that pinched look of concern on his face. He smiled as easily as he could. “Uh. Should I…?”

“If you wish it.” Ignis nodded ever so slightly, but the concern didn’t fade. He studied Prompto for another long moment before sighing and wheeling his chocobo around. “Gladio?”

“Let’s go,” Gladio agreed, kicking his own mount into motion again.

Prompto and Noctis sat perfectly still for a long moment, giving the older two men a head start.

“So,” Noct said as they finally began riding again, their birds moving in perfect unison. “You gonna talk to me or what?”

“It’s not really—” Prompto cut himself off at the look his friend gave him. He winced and looked down at his hands on the reins. “I don’t want to make things weird, dude.”

Noctis snorted and reached over to shove playfully at Prompto’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, but the wedding wasn’t called off because I’m into you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Prompto chuckled despite himself. Leave it to Noct to try and find a way to make him relax. What in the name of the Six had he done to deserve a friend like this? A friend he might very well accidentally betray. He swallowed that thought as best he could and tried to just focus on the conversation at hand, hoping that Noct wasn’t going to tease him too mercilessly. “It wasn’t you anyway. It, uh, might have been…Ignis, maybe?”

“Specs?” Noctis shifted in his saddle to squint up at Ignis in front of them. “Seriously?”

Prompto laughed uncomfortably. “I know, right? I have no idea how he could be into a loser like me.”

“I’m more confused about how you could be into a hard-ass like him,” Noctis muttered, shaking his head as he straightened. “Seriously, Prom, all those times he busted us for staying up all night or eating too much junk, and you’ve had a crush on him this whole time?”

“Not the _whole_ time,” Prompto mumbled, fidgeting with the soft leather reins in his fingers.

Noct made a little disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. After a long moment, he asked, “So…what about Cindy?”

The blush felt so hot Prompto was sure he was going to spontaneously combust. He’d talked about crushes with Noctis before, sure, but that was in high school, when he was still convinced nothing was ever going to come of them. This conversation was different. This time, Ignis had already kissed his hand, had bought him a present, had admitted to liking him in return. This time, Noctis actually knew the object of Prompto’s affections—very well, in fact—instead of it just being some random classmate. “Hey, I can like more than one person at a time. It’s not like anything’s gonna happen anyway.”

“I mean, you just said Specs likes you back, so it sounds like something might happen.” Noctis shrugged easily. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s…not that easy,” Prompto muttered to his hands. He could practically see the barcode beneath the bracelets, glaring up at him, reminding him that there was still so much about himself that he didn’t know. Stuff that might hurt his friends, might hurt Ignis, especially if they went further with this awkward dating thing.

“Don’t see how it isn’t. You like him, he likes you. It’s not like there’s some rule that friends can’t date or something.” Noct paused a moment, then tacked on, “Though I might make a law about not getting too sappy around me. I can do that, right? As King of Nothing?”

Prompto blinked at his friend, then snorted as he tried not to laugh out loud at the idea of getting sappy around Noct. Ignis was way too uptight for that, and Prompto was too self-conscious. And that was even assuming Ignis didn’t change his mind or something. “You’re still King of Lucis, man. If nothing else, you’ve got the three of us to boss around.”

“Then by royal decree, I pronounce that you and Specs should date and tell me absolutely nothing about it,” Noct said, his tone the perfect mockery of the high court speech he’d been trained to use since he was young. “And I order you both to be disgustingly happy when I can’t see it.”

Prompto did laugh this time, unable to help himself. It had been so long since he’d heard Noct make fun of the court like that that for a second, he could just pretend they were back home and nothing had happened. Insomnia never fell, they never left home, he never started wondering about what he was. He twisted in his saddle to give his friend an awkward half-bow, miraculously not falling off his chocobo. “If you insist, Your Majesty.”

“Can I order you to take off the stupid hoodie, too?” Noctis asked with a wicked grin.

Prompto’s chocobo chose that moment to jump ahead and yelp, “Kweh!”

“That means ‘bite me’ in chocobo!” Prompto called as his bird left Noct in the dust. He laughed so hard his sides hurt and his vision blurred, and he was still giggling when Noctis caught up. “Sorry, man. Had to!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Noct rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as well. “Seriously, though. If Iggy does something stupid, I’ll make him regret it. Just say something, okay?”

Prompto bit his lip. The blush returned, burning the back of his neck. He was sure Ignis wasn’t going to be the one to do something stupid. But it was kind of sweet of Noct to offer to defend him. “You just kind of ordered me not to tell you anything, dude.”

“This is different.” Noctis playfully shoved Prompto’s shoulder again. “It’s not like you want Gladio ‘defending your honor’ or something.”

“Pretty sure I don’t need you ‘defending my honor,’ either,” Prompto pointed out, shoving him back with his elbow to keep his hands on the reins. “But…thanks, I guess.”

“Someone’s got to look out for you.” Noct shrugged easily, then glanced at the sky. “Crap. Come on. We better catch up.”

Prompto looked up at well, frowning at how low the sun had gotten. Hoping they did indeed make it to the Haven before sundown, he urged his chocobo to trot faster.


	8. The Blur of Discovery

They managed to reach the Haven shortly after nightfall, and spent the freezing night huddled together under the blankets Ignis insisted Noct keep in the magical armory with their weapons. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the tent, and Prompto spent most of the night shivering, despite the hoodie and the shared body heat, but they made it.

In the morning, Ignis made a quick breakfast and settled down on the edge of the Haven to plan, leaving the other three to their own devices. They trained—Noct and Prompto gleefully took full advantage of that deal Gladio had made back at Alstor—played _King’s Knight_ until Noct’s phone battery died, chatted, gathered vegetables for dinner despite Noct’s abhorrence, and watched the clouds until they were all three restless and bored out of their minds.

Finally, Ignis set his phone aside and stretched, pulling off his glasses to scrub at his eyes.

“Got a plan?” Gladio asked, pausing in chopping ginger to look over at Ignis.

Prompto glanced up from taking photos on his phone of Noct posing like an idiot with various Armiger weapons.

Ignis hummed in agreement. He replaced his glasses and stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. “It won’t be easy, but I believe it’s our best course of action for now.”

He explained the plan as he cooked, his hands moving as if they didn’t even need his brain to know what they were doing. “We’ll need to sneak into the stronghold by night, and keep a low profile. Once we’re inside, we’ll split into two groups: Gladio, you go with Noct to recover the Regalia. Prompto and I will seek out more information on the Empire’s plans.”

“Shouldn’t we stick together?” Noctis asked, crouching beside the makeshift cooking area Ignis had made earlier in the day.

“We may not have another opportunity to gather such intel,” Ignis explained without looking up from his work. “It would be a shame to waste it.”

Prompto swallowed hard and fidgeted with the beat-up chocobo and moogle charm on his phone. It didn’t take a genius of Ignis’ caliber to realize what was happening here. Ignis was trying to do something nice for him, trying to help him figure out more about the barcode and the weird freezing-up thing and the premonitions of the Empire’s arrival. But Noctis was right. Splitting up while sneaking around an Imperial base seemed like a completely awful idea. “But, Iggy, it’s not like the Niffs haven’t made their goals clear or anything. We know they want to take over Lucis. That’s not exactly a surprise.”

This time Ignis did glance up, giving Prompto a curious look over the rims of his glasses. “We know their overarching goals, certainly, but we may gain an invaluable edge should we find information on where they intend to strike next, or certain weaknesses built into the magitek army.”

Silence descended on the quartet, broken only by the soft click of Ignis’ knife as he finished chopping vegetables.

“Iggy’s right,” Gladio muttered finally. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I don’t like it, but we need as much information as we can get.”

Noct frowned, obviously thinking it through. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. “If you really think so…”

Prompto chewed his lip but didn’t say anything, turning his attention back down to fiddling with his phone charm.

They planned until dinner was ready and the conversation turned mostly to Ignis forcing Noct to eat the roasted vegetables, since it was all they had.

Prompto ate without really tasting it, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. Any time now, they’d be sneaking onto an Imperial base and putting their lives in danger to get information about what he was. If anyone got hurt because they had split up, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself. It didn’t matter that Ignis was the one who’d come up with the plan. He’d decided on it because he wanted to help Prompto. That meant whatever happened was Prompto’s fault.

“Head in the game, Prompto,” Gladio’s gruff voice muttered as one big hand ruffled Prompto’s hair. “You’ve got to watch Iggy’s back in there.”

Prompto blinked, then gave him the most confident smile he could manage. “I will.”

“Let’s get this over with.” Noct walked to the edge of the Haven, his boots sending up little puffs of dust. “Cindy’ll never let us hear the end of it if they’ve scratched up the car.”

“I’m certain that’s the least of our worries at the moment,” Ignis said dryly. He appeared beside Prompto without warning and offered a gloved hand, his expression that blank sort of determination he always got before a planned battle.

Prompto accepted the help up, wondering briefly if that qualified as “too sappy” in Noct’s book. But the prince didn’t say anything, so Prompto shoved the thought away and dusted off his pants. “So, uh, you and me, huh?”

“Indeed.” Ignis watched him a moment, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“Why would it be a problem?” Prompto asked, his voice cracking just a little. He glanced at Noct and Gladio, who were already picking their way through the brush around the Haven. They were far enough away that he felt safe to drop his voice and whisper, “You really don’t have to do this, Iggy. We should just get the Regalia and leave. I…we’ll figure everything else out later.”

Ignis sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Prompto, the more information we have on your…condition, the better. The last thing any of us needs is for you to freeze in battle again and allow yourself or someone else to come to harm. If you must, think of this not as helping yourself, but as helping Noct.”

Prompto winced and looked down, picking at the black leather of his bracelets. His condition. Freezing in battle. He was a liability. Again. “What if I freeze up in there and get _you_ hurt?”

“We’ll deal with that situation should it arise,” Ignis said firmly. After a moment, he threaded his fingers through Prompto’s and squeezed gently. “Trust me, Prompto. This is the best course of action.”

Prompto stared at their joined hands for a moment, then forced himself to look up. He searched Ignis’ face, looking for some hint of a lie, some tiny spark of uncertainty, but found only gentleness and determination. That should have been comforting, but for some reason, it only made him more anxious. Ignis believed they could really figure this out. So why didn’t Prompto believe it? “Iggy…I don’t…”

“Trust me,” Ignis insisted again. “This may be our only chance to gather information about whatever’s ailing you.”

Whatever was ailing him. Ignis made it sound like a common cold, not some bizarre glitch in his brain, or some inexplicable tie to Niflheim. That meant Ignis seriously thought there was something they could do, if they only knew more about whatever it was. If it turned out that Prompto was one of them, what could possibly be done? Would anyone ever trust him again? Would Gladio insist on putting him down like a rabid dog? Would Noct immediately regret everything they’d ever done together? Would Ignis even look at him any more?

Prompto tried desperately to swallow past the twisting of his heart. He couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on sneaking into the stronghold, on staying alert to protect both Ignis and himself. He had to be at the top of his game.

Hesitantly, he squeezed Ignis’ hand in return. “I do trust you.”

“Then we should go.” Ignis pulled his hand away, hesitated, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Prompto’s forehead.

For some reason, Gladio’s words from the previous day hit Prompto like the flat of a broadsword: _“he’s not still waiting for you to make a move, is he?”_

Was Ignis really waiting for Prompto to do something? Was that why he only gave him kisses on the hand or forehead? Why he didn’t initiate hugs? Why he didn’t seem to want anything more than occasionally holding hands?

Well, only one way to find out. And Prompto wanted to know before they got themselves killed trying to sneak into a Niff base.

He sucked in a deep breath, grabbed the lapels of Ignis’ flawless jacket, and bounced up onto the balls of his feet to smash his lips against Ignis’ before he had enough time to chicken out.

As first kisses go, it wasn’t great. Prompto was almost certain he bruised the insides of his lips with the force of it, and Ignis seemed too surprised to do anything but stand there like a statue. It was over in a heartbeat.

Prompto rocked back on his heels, face burning, and tried to scurry past Ignis before his companion could stop him. He just wasn’t fast enough.

Ignis grabbed his arm, the touch light but firm enough to freeze him in place. “Prompto…”

“S-sorry,” Prompto muttered, not sure what else to do. He swallowed hard, unable to look Ignis in the face. Prompto had just forced a kiss on him, after all.

“Why in the world are you apologizing?” Ignis asked quietly. He shifted closer, his hand sliding up Prompto’s arm, tracing over his throat, until he cupped Prompto’s cheek in his palm. Gently, he pulled Prompto’s head up until they were staring at each other, barely inches apart. There was a visible smear across one of his glasses lenses, probably from where Prompto’s nose had hit it. Then, hesitantly, he leaned forward and kissed Prompto again.

This time, the kiss was soft and slow, somehow far more intimate even though it wasn’t actually any deeper.

Ignis’ thumb traced light circles on Prompto’s cheekbone.

Prompto pressed into the contact without thinking, his eyes flitting shut. Ignis was kissing him! With those warm, perfect lips…

Time stretched out into blissful strands, the moment spinning on and on.

Eventually, though, Ignis pulled away. He inhaled softly, kissed the tip of Prompto’s nose, and took half a step backward. “I…hope that wasn’t too forward of me.”

Prompto stared at him for a moment, still feeling the ghost of Ignis’ lips on his, then giggled a little despite himself. Too forward? He’d kissed Ignis first! “No, it…it was great. Really. I…uh…”

“Are you two coming or what?” Noctis shouted, shattering the strange, magical moment.

Prompto’s blush roared back with a vengeance and he scrambled away from Ignis. “Noct’s gonna _kill_ us.”

“I very much doubt that,” Ignis said primly. He slipped his glasses off and polished them on a cloth from his pocket. When he replaced them, the smear from Prompto’s nose was gone. “But we should be going. If this mission has any hope of success, we must accomplish it and be long gone before sunrise.”

Prompto took a deep breath and nodded curtly. Right. Sneaking into a Niff base to get the Regalia back and try to figure out what was going on with him. He’d almost forgotten. “Yeah. Sorry. Let’s go.”

“And remember,” Ignis muttered as they picked their way down from the Haven, toward the irritated Noctis and smirking Gladio, “Say something immediately if anything feels out of place.”

“Right.” Prompto felt like he should smile, but he couldn’t really make himself do it. He knew what Ignis meant. Say something if he felt himself freezing up, or if he could somehow sense the Empire’s movements. That thought made his chest tighten and his stomach twist in on itself. They were walking into enemy territory without actually knowing what had made him freak out the last time. Maybe just being that close to magitek soldiers would trigger something. Maybe he’d turn on his friends just from walking into the stronghold. Maybe…

“Took you long enough,” Gladio rumbled good-naturedly as Prompto and Ignis joined him and Noct.

Prompto took the opportunity to try and distract himself from his own mind. “Hey, it’s not like anyone said we were in that much of a hurry!”

Ignis sighed and simply kept walking, clearly expecting the rest of them to catch up.

Noctis rolled his eyes, punched Prompto gently in the shoulder, and followed.

Prompto gave Gladio a self-conscious shrug as he trotted after his friends.

Aracheole Stronghold grew from the side of the road like a dark mountain, searchlights skimming the sides of the stone walls in predictable patterns. Shadowy figures paced the tops of the walls, the outlines of MT helmets barely visible in the night.

Prompto crouched beside Ignis and Gladio, watching the guards. He took a breath, stretching his mind to try and catch any sort of connection or information before it became a problem.

_Entrance to the right._

Apparently, he wasn’t as aware as he’d hoped he would be. He swallowed hard and glanced at Ignis. Should he say something? He’d promised he would if he felt anything weird, but just getting a random drop of information…that didn’t count, did it?

“How do we get in?” Noct whispered.

“According to the schematics I saw, there ought to be a small side door to the right,” Ignis replied just as quietly.

Prompto’s fingers ghosted over his bracelet. The barcode didn’t hurt like it had at the Disc. How had he been able to guess the direction of the entrance?

He didn’t have much time to worry about it, though, as Ignis urged them forward.

Getting into the stronghold was terrifyingly easy. They slipped unnoticed through a small door in the wall and took a moment to get their bearings behind a huge stack of supply boxes. Gladio and Ignis made a few motions to each other that Prompto vaguely recognized as the official Crownsguard sign language, then Gladio nodded and motioned for Noctis to follow him as he crept forward between the boxes and the wall.

Ignis gently touched Prompto’s shoulder and tilted his chin toward the opposite end of the stack of boxes.

Prompto inhaled sharply and nodded. They were already in, might as well stick to the plan. And hope it didn’t come back to bite them too hard.

He followed Ignis around the perimeter of the base, ducking behind crates and half-assembled mechs any time a soldier passed. With every near-miss, Prompto’s heart beat a little harder at the base of his throat. How long had it been? How much longer did they have? Were Noct and Gladio all right?

The quiet thud of his boots sounded unnaturally loud in his ears as they snuck from one shadow to another. How had the Empire not realized they were here yet?

Ignis grabbed his wrist and yanked him down, hissing, “pay attention! We can’t risk discovery now.”

“Sorry,” Prompto whispered. He had to keep his head in the game. He could get Ignis hurt if he didn’t pay attention.

Ignis gave him a concerned look, closed his eyes a moment, then motioned to the right. “Based on the level of security, the Empire is likely using that room as a control center of sorts. If we can get inside, we might find what we’re looking for.”

Prompto shifted to look where Ignis had indicated. A small, squat square of a building sat not far off, isolated from everything else. An MT stood stationed on either side of the door, but Prompto couldn’t tell if they were active or not. He couldn’t see the telltale red glow from their eyes, but maybe he was just at a bad angle. “Damn…wish I could warp like Noct.”

“Indeed,” Ignis muttered distractedly. After a moment, he summoned a dagger and shifted as if to throw it.

_He’ll activate the soldiers._

“Wait.” Prompto grabbed Ignis’ arm before he could think. He swallowed at the startled look Ignis gave him, and motioned vaguely to his head. “I just…you’ll wake them up if you just throw a knife at them. Let me try something?”

“Another vision?” Ignis asked in a tight whisper.

Prompto shrugged uncomfortably. “Not a vision, really. Just…knowing stuff. But yeah.”

Ignis studied him for a long moment before nodding and dispersing his dagger in a quick flash of blue light. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Prompto smiled weakly. He hesitated just a second, pressed a quick kiss to Ignis’ cheek, and darted out from behind their shelter. Keeping low and moving as fast as he dared, he crossed the open space to the control center. As he closed the distance, he realized the MTs were indeed inactive, their heads down and their eyes dead and dark. Okay. Stealth. Right.

He didn’t really know where the instincts came from, but he knew exactly what he needed to do. Sneak up, jump, pin the arms with his legs, headlock until the target passed out or he could get leverage to snap a neck, do it all as quickly and quietly as possible. Be a silent, deadly blur. He tried not to worry about whether or not this was part of whatever random knowledge drops he was getting, or something else entirely. That didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was taking out those soldiers before they woke up and started firing at Ignis.

His breath rasped in his ears as he paused just around the corner of the building. Okay. One on two. As long as he took at least one of them out before they activated, he should be okay. Don’t worry about Ignis, or Noct, or Gladio, he reminded himself. Don’t let the pressure get to you. Just stay right here and do what you need to do.

And then he was moving faster than he ever remembered moving before, leaping onto the nearest MT, wrapping his legs around its torso and his arms around its neck. The trooper tilted and fell, taking Prompto with it, but he didn’t let go. They hit the ground hard, with a clatter of metal, and Prompto quickly snapped the neck. Sparks flew for a second and fizzled out. A ghastly, inhuman scream filled Prompto’s ears and he hoped like hell no one else had heard it, even as it made him shiver.

One down, one to go.

The soft whir of machinery firing up filtered out of the second guard and Prompto wasted no time jumping on that one as well. It remained upright longer than the first one, nearly throwing Prompto off before he managed to disable it.

Prompto rolled when he hit the ground this time, panting. His heart pounding so hard it hurt. He’d just taken out two MTs on his own with his bare hands. No guns. No backup. Adrenaline ran through him like fire and he very nearly shouted a “whoohoo!” before catching himself.

“That was quite impressive,” Ignis said quietly as he joined Prompto. He toed one of the broken MTs, then squared his shoulders and turned toward the door. “Damn.”

“What’s up?” Prompto leaned over to see what Ignis was cursing about. The door had no handle, but a glowing red screen had been bolted to the frame. It didn’t take a genius to realize it needed to scan something in order to open the door. “Oh.”

_Your barcode._

Prompto immediately glanced down to his wrist. No. If his tattoo was compatible with Niflheim tech, if it opened the door, that meant he really was one of them. That thought made him infinitely more nauseous than the idea of taking out the MTs. “Iggy…we should just…we should go.”

“We’re so close,” Ignis protested, scowling at the pad. “Perhaps one of those soldiers has a keycard of some nature?”

“They don’t,” Prompto whispered. He clutched at his wrist and struggled to take deep breaths. He didn’t know how he knew—again—but he was certain that his barcode would open the door, not some keycard. “Ignis, please…let’s just…go.”

“Is something wrong?” Ignis turned toward him, suddenly all concern and worry. He laid a gentle hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Prompto…”

He shook his head and jerked away from Ignis’ touch. “It’s just…me. The barcode. That…that’s what opens the door. And I can’t. I’m not one of them!”

Ignis visibly stiffened at Prompto’s raised voice, glancing quickly around them.

Metal clanked and footsteps sounded around the corner. Someone shouted something Prompto didn’t quite catch.

“You might not have a choice,” Ignis whispered urgently. He gently shoved Prompto toward the door and the scanner. “We have to hide. Quickly.”

It was a miracle Prompto managed to swallow the bile crawling up his throat. Ignis was right. They couldn’t get caught here, and they’d never make it to other cover. He fumbled with his bracelet until he managed to rip it off. His hand shook violently as he held the back of his wrist up to the scanner.

The commotion of footsteps and clanking armor grew closer.

Red light slid over Prompto’s skin. Something beeped quietly. The light flickered to green as the door slid open.

Ignis yanked him inside and Prompto barely managed to stifle a yelp.

They pressed themselves against the wall, breathing as quietly as they could manage until the door slid shut again.

Prompto slowly slid down to sit on the floor, resting his forehead on his knees. He was a Niff. He really was one of them. There was no going back now. Why hadn’t Ignis just listened to him instead of insisting on trying to find out more?

“I’m sorry,” Ignis whispered what felt like an eternity later, “but we’ve no time.”

“I know.” Prompto’s voice came out barely louder than a breath. He was afraid it would crack if he spoke much louder. He sucked in a shaky breath, but couldn’t bring himself to look up yet. “I just…I’m…”

“A Niff, is it?”

The familiar, smug voice made Prompto’s head jerk up. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of Ardyn leaning casually in the far corner. How had they missed him when they came in?!

“Chancellor,” Ignis said. His voice was tight, straining the edges of politeness. He shifted ever so slightly closer to Prompto. “What a surprise.”

Ardyn chuckled and pushed off the wall, strolling around the consoles and chairs that took up most of the room. “Is it, now? I had so hoped the little gunslinger would have put the pieces together by now. Your father would be _terribly_ disappointed.”

Prompto’s stomach dropped. His father? His father had died in Insomnia. They’d never spent much time together, but Prompto knew the man had been proud of his acceptance into the Crownsguard. Ardyn was just trying to rile him up for some reason. And he hated the fact that it was working. He curled his hands into fists against his shins, nails digging into his palms with enough force he wouldn’t have been surprised if they drew blood. “What the hell do you want?”

“Want?” Ardyn asked with obviously mock offense. He pressed a hand to his chest, fingers splayed against the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Now, why would you assume I wanted anything? Might I remind you that you’re the intruders here? This is, after all, Niflheim territory now.”

“Niflheim had claim over these lands as part of the treaty terms,” Ignis said flatly. “A treaty that was never signed. Duscae is still Lucian land.”

“Oh, pish posh.” Ardyn waved a hand as if clearing the air and continued to mosey forward. “Are we going to quibble over who owns which hill when your friends are facing unknown challenges on their own?”

Prompto knew he shouldn’t have done it. He knew it was stupid. But he had summoned his pistol and leveled it at the creep before he could think. His finger tensed on the trigger…

And every muscle in his body locked up.

It felt exactly the same as it had back at the Disc when he tried to shoot that assassin. His finger refused to move, no matter how hard he tried to force it.

“Prompto,” Ignis warned, his voice low.

“Iggy…” Prompto’s voice cracked before he could tell Ignis what was happening. He swallowed hard, licked his lips, and tried again. “I’m, uh…kinda feeling like a one-star character here, buddy.”

Ignis’ eyes went wide behind his glasses. In an instant, he crouched beside Prompto, one hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Dunno,” Prompto admitted weakly. He felt like he should be shaking, but his muscles wouldn’t do a damn thing.

“Have you heard the children’s story of a puppet who wished to be a real boy?” Ardyn asked casually. He stopped only a few feet away from Prompto and Ignis, his fur-lined cloak swishing around his boots. “The ending was quite…unfortunate, wouldn’t you agree? It would be such a shame if you were to reenact it before your time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prompto demanded. Why couldn’t he just pull the damn trigger? “I’m not a puppet! I’m a Lucian!”

The Chancellor clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head. “So naive, clinging to the illusion of humanity.”

“The illusion of humanity?” Ignis tensed beside Prompto. Blue light flickered at his fingertips, but the daggers didn’t appear.

_You’re a magitek unit._

Prompto could have sworn his heart stopped. No. No, that was wrong. He was human. He was Lucian. The barcode, the door, the weird knowledge…it all just had to be some kind of shitty trick. It had to be! “No! You’re lying!”

“Am I?” Ardyn crouched down in front of Prompto, putting his face square in front of the pistol barrel. He was so close that Prompto could see the cracks in his chapped lips, smell the overly sweet cologne he wore. “Did you know magitek soldiers are programmed with the inability to harm a select few high-ranking officials in the Imperial court? Myself included.”

Lies. It had to be lies. Prompto desperately tried to shoot. When his finger didn’t so much as twitch, he tried to swing his fist. His arm remained stubbornly at his side. “What’s that got to do with me? I’m human.”

_You aren’t._

“I am!” Prompto screamed, as if volume would make it more convincing.

Ignis squeezed his shoulder. “Prompto…”

“I’m human,” Prompto whispered.

Something about Ardyn’s smirk felt like a slap in the face. “Just believing in something doesn’t make it true. I should know.”

“Chancellor, please.” Ignis finally summoned one of his daggers and held it out in front of them, trying to create a barrier between them and Ardyn. “I don’t know what your goal is, but—”

“My goal?” The older man interrupted with an odd little chuckle. “That, I believe, is entirely too broad for you to understand. Suffice it to say that, at the moment, I merely wish to help young Prompto discover who he truly is. Or is that a bit too trite?”

“I know who I am.” Prompto had meant to growl it like Noct might, but it came out as a tiny, broken whisper. Did he really know who he was? He had been worried about it for years, since the war started getting bad. But he’d always believed those were just nightmares, just bad thoughts aggravated by not fitting in with anyone from school. Had he been wrong? Had he just been fooling himself his whole life? Was he really one of them?

Ardyn clucked again as he stood and turned his back on them, hands clasped behind him as if he was simply out for an evening stroll. “I feel I should warn you that the head of the Imperial Army has given all the magitek soldiers on this base a singular order: disable and capture any intruders. One has to wonder how that might end—orders for such highly-trained soldiers to take down a singular prince and his friends. As I’m sure you know, the magitek infantry can be so stubbornly single-minded.”

_Disable and capture any intruders. Intruder identified._

No, no, no, no, _no!_

Prompto’s entire body twitched in one massive shudder. He fought his own muscles, trying to vanish his gun, trying to keep from moving, trying to do anything, but he still swung around until the pistol was aimed at Ignis.

“Such a shame,” Ardyn murmured, his voice sounding distant and tinny. “The puppet isn’t a real boy after all.”

Ignis inhaled sharply and jumped backward as if he had been on a spring. “Prompto, whatever’s happening…you must fight it.”

Prompto tried to open his mouth, to apologize, to ask Iggy to just put him out of his misery, but his jaw clamped itself shut even tighter. No…no, this couldn’t be happening! He wasn’t an MT! But his body was moving without his control. He’d opened the door.

He knew what he was. It was just as useless to fight that realization as it was to fight the automatic motions of aiming and timing his breath for the shot.

He was a magitek soldier.

He didn’t deserve love.

The report of the pistol was the loudest noise Prompto had ever heard. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t the sound of his own heart breaking.


	9. The Blur of Escape

Ignis didn’t scream. Prompto would always remember that. No scream, just the thud of a bullet hitting flesh and a soft, pained grunt. In a way, that was almost worse.

The sharp, metallic scent of blood and gunpowder filled his nose, making his stomach churn. He’d shot Ignis. Just like that. And he’d been utterly unable to stop it. Even though it was his own body. Even though he’d been completely frozen just seconds before.

The pistol disappeared in a shock of blue light and Prompto reached for Ignis. He didn’t want to. He wanted to curl into a ball and sob, run away, anything but hurt Ignis again. But he still wasn’t in control of himself. His body still had an order to fulfill.

_Disable and capture any intruders._

He’d disabled Ignis. Now his hands needed to ensure he was captured.

Ignis’ face was paler than Prompto had ever seen it, and he clutched at his left shoulder, blood oozing between his fingers. He held up his free hand just a little, the motion weak and obviously pained. When he spoke, his voice came out tight and quiet. “No need. I surrender.”

_Intruder captured._

Prompto shuddered and toppled forward as if someone had cut a string that was keeping him upright. He barely managed to catch himself before his face smashed into the floor. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he scrambled for a potion and broke the fragile blue bottle over Ignis’ shoulder. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

Ignis hissed as the curative did its work, knitting up the wound until it stopped bleeding. It left an angry red scab that was likely to scar, but they didn’t have anything else to help. Gingerly, Ignis rolled his shoulder, avoiding Prompto’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto repeated in a whisper as he pulled away. He dropped his hands uselessly into his lap and stared at them, unable to muster the energy even to fidget. Ignis probably hated him now, and for good reason. Not even an hour after they’d kissed and Prompto had shot him. It didn’t really matter that he hadn’t wanted to, that he’d fought tooth and nail against it. It had still happened and Prompto knew he’d never forgive himself.

Ignis glanced around the room instead of replying. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Where did the Chancellor get off to?”

Prompto’s head snapped up. Ardyn was gone. No trace of him left in the room. Had he slipped past them while they’d been distracted? Was there another door? “I…I don’t know.”

“No matter.” Ignis carefully pulled himself to his feet, still looking a little pale, a little off-balance. But, being Ignis, he straightened his jacket, wiped his bloodied gloves on a handkerchief, and stubbornly moved toward the nearest table. “Our objective remains the same, and now we’ve little time to accomplish it.”  

Prompto stared at Ignis’ back for a moment, then carefully wiped the tears off his cheeks with the back of his wrist. He hadn’t replaced his bracelet yet, and the barcode glared up at him. That reminder that he wasn’t who he’d always thought he was. Wasn’t _what_ he thought he was. That damn mark was what had hurt Ignis. Somehow, it branded him as a magitek soldier. Somehow, it had made him susceptible to whatever Ardyn had done to him, whatever had taken over his body. He wanted to tear it from his skin, rip it off, erase any trace of it.

But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. He had to keep himself together enough to meet up with Noct and Gladio and get the hell out of here. Somehow. Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet. His knees felt like jelly, but they somehow managed to hold his weight well enough. He slapped his bracelet back over his wrist and stumbled to another table to grab as many reports and files as he could stuff in his pockets. What was even the point of grabbing it? They knew what he was now. They knew he could turn on them at any moment. So why bother trying to get more information? But the last thing he wanted was to argue with Ignis. Though maybe an argument would be better than the stiff, suffocating silence.

They quickly rifled the room and took anything that looked remotely promising, neither saying a word. Finally, Ignis cleared his throat and turned toward the door, obviously anticipating Prompto would follow.

Prompto shoved one last scrap of paper in the pocket of his vest and scurried after him.

The base had come to life while they were in the control room, MTs and human soldiers crawling everywhere. Sneaking was basically out of the question, but Prompto was hesitant to summon his gun again. What if whatever had happened made him shoot Ignis again? What if he froze up again? Ardyn had said MTs couldn’t hurt high-ranking court members, but what counted as high-ranking?

“Prompto!” Ignis snapped, the first word he’d said in at least fifteen minutes. They were surrounded by six magitek soldiers, red eyes glowing eerily in lightening darkness. So much for finishing this mission undetected.

Prompto swallowed hard. What choice did he have? He flicked his wrist, the pistol appearing in his fingers—a terrible weight—and immediately took aim. The bullets bounced off metal helmets with a series of sharp snaps. One of the strange masks cracked and fell away, revealing a sliver of pale face and half of a familiar, blue-violet eye.

A dagger took full advantage of the exposed flesh and the MT toppled over.

Prompto didn’t manage to swallow back the bile this time. He dropped his gun and sprinted for the opening, barely making it to cover behind a storage container before throwing up.

The MT had had his face. His eyes. _They looked like him._

If he’d had any doubt about being one of them after that run-in with Ardyn, it was gone now. He’d lived a lie his whole life. A lie that could turn deadly at any second. A lie that had almost killed the guy he was pretty sure he was falling in love with. A lie that could very easily kill his best friend.

“Damn it!” Ignis shouted. Metal scraped on metal from the other side of the storage container. “Prompto!”

Prompto shook all over. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go on, knowing what he was, how close he was to turning on his friends. He couldn’t make them deal with that. He just couldn’t. All his life, he’d wanted friends and now that he finally had them, the gods had dropped this bomb on him. It wasn’t fair!

But Ignis was out there, fighting on his own. What kind of friend was he if he would let Ignis take on that many soldiers alone? The kind Ignis would hate, obviously. The kind he’d never consider dating.

He had to pull himself together and help.

The shaking didn’t stop, but he wiped his mouth and forced himself up. He climbed awkwardly on top of a smaller crate and braced his elbows on the top of the large box in front of him. His gun reappeared in his hand and he took several deep breaths to try and steady himself. It didn’t really work. But he had no time. Ignis was bleeding again, and the soldiers were closing in.

_Aim for the base of the neck._

For the first time, Prompto didn’t question the random knowledge dropped into his head. He didn’t have the time or the energy. Instead, he simply took aim for the base of the nearest MT’s neck and fired. It went down with a crash, and he quickly moved his aim to the next one, very carefully avoiding pointing the pistol anywhere near Ignis.

Despite his near-violent shaking, he managed to help Ignis dispatch the soldiers in record time.

“Don’t fucking _do_ that!” Ignis growled when Prompto finally crept back around the storage container. The normally composed advisor looked, quite honestly, like shit. His hair was mussed, his jacket and pressed pants bloodstained, his eyes wide and wild behind crooked glasses. His left sleeve was torn open from the shoulder, blood trickling down his arm again. The bullet wound from earlier had reopened in the fight. Apparently a potion hadn’t been enough.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto whispered, lowering his gaze to stare at Ignis’ shoes. Their shine had dulled with mud and blood and who knew what else. “I…wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously.” Ignis’ reply was curt and quiet. After a moment, he tacked on just as coldly, “use your head from now on, if you wish to get out of this alive.”

Prompto swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah.”

After that, the silence resumed, even more uncomfortable than before.

They fought their way through three more knots of soldiers before a sharp whistle drew Ignis’ attention upward. The growing dawn cast Gladio’s unmistakable silhouette into sharp relief on a catwalk to their left.

Ignis turned toward the nearest stairs without a word.

Prompto trotted behind him, struggling to force his stomach to stop revolting. His throat burned. What was Ignis going to tell Noct and Gladio? What were they going to do when they found out what happened?

From there on, everything was a blur. It was like Prompto’s brain had just decided to shut down once he was safe with his friends again. He vaguely remembered Ignis suggesting they take out the generator, the most massive lightning he’d ever seen, and some stranger dressed all in white.

Things snapped back into focus as the sun crested the horizon. He wasn’t entirely certain how they’d decided to let Gladio drive, but the big man was behind the wheel, Ignis in the passenger’s seat. They were talking about something in voices so quiet Prompto couldn’t make out any coherent words. Not that he wanted to. He was certain they were talking about him. How could they not be?

Prompto stretched and winced as his muscles all protested. How long had he been sitting in a ball behind Gladio? How much had he missed by zoning out?

“Hey, man. Welcome back to the land of the living,” Noct mumbled sleepily, nudging him with the toe of his boot. The prince sat sideways in the seat, leaning against the door with his legs half-stretched out toward Prompto, filling the space between them. His shirt was hiked up, exposing a pink bandage across his belly, and hair looked matted and wet.

Prompto dredged up a smile and hoped it looked genuine. They should have just left him back at that base. It would have been better for everyone. Too late now. “Hey. Uh. You okay?”

Noctis shrugged with one shoulder. “Could’ve gone better. You?”

“Yeah…us, too.” Prompto couldn’t help but glance at Ignis sitting stiffly in the front seat. He couldn’t really see Ignis’ wounded arm. Had someone given him a hi-potion or an elixir? Was he still bleeding? “But, hey…we got the car back, right? That’s good.”

Noct hummed his agreement and shifted with a wince. Instead of continuing the quiet conversation, he turned his head toward the front of the car and raised his voice to ask, “We’re not camping tonight, right? I need a damn bed.”

“Of course you do, Highness,” Gladio called back over the wind, his voice only a little sarcastic. “We’re gonna try to make Lestallum, but no promises.”

“Fine.” Noctis made a show of rolling his eyes and sinking lower in his seat. “Just don’t make me sleep on the ground again.”

Prompto could definitely get behind that sentiment. The idea of sleeping on the hard ground after everything that had happened just made his muscles ache even worse.

They drove in silence for a while as the sun slowly climbed higher in the sky.

Prompto turned his face upward, soaking in the feeling of the growing warmth. It was comforting. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t deserve the comfort. Not with what he was.

An MT. A killing machine. A Niff. A traitor.

His stomach lurched again and he clapped his hands over his mouth. He couldn’t throw up in the Regalia. That would be just plain awful.

“You okay?” Noctis asked. The leather seat creaked as he shifted, swinging his feet down to the floorboard so he could scoot closer to his friend.

Prompto swallowed desperately and nodded. He couldn’t tell Noct the truth. Not right now. Hell, how could he ever really hope to force those words out? Was there some casual way to tell your best friend that, surprise, you were really one of the monsters that killed his father and destroyed his home?

“Specs told us what happened,” Noct muttered after a moment. Instead of the disgust Prompto had expected, the prince’s voice sounded strangely…awed? “Taking down those MTs without your gun or anything…badass.”

“Badass” was so far removed from what Prompto had been expecting, that he stared at his friend for a long moment as his brain struggled to process the words. Then he remembered how he’d disabled the soldiers standing guard outside the room. Before he’d known what he was. Before he’d seen their faces. _His_ face. He gulped back another mouthful of bile and laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, yeah. That. I guess Cor trained me better than we thought, huh?”

Noctis chuckled. “Guess so.”

“Calling it,” Gladio announced before the awkward silence stretched on more than half a minute. “We’re pulling over.”

He pulled the car into the motel parking lot in Old Lestallum and killed the engine. All four of them sat dumbly in their seats for a moment, too tired to move.

Ignis was the one who managed to move first, popping his door open with his good hand. “Gladio, would you and Prompto fetch some curatives while Noct and I procure a room?”

Gladio grumbled his agreement and snapped his door open. His joints popped as he stood and he made a point of cracking his neck before opening Prompto’s door. “C’mon.”

Prompto slid out of the car and stretched as well, but kept his eyes on the ground. Of course Ignis wouldn’t want to be alone with him, or even in the same place if he could help it. It only made sense.

Gladio grabbed a tote bag from the trunk of the car and led Prompto across the street to the little vendor selling things out of her car. He handed over quite a bit of gil—where had that even come from?—for an armful of elixirs and hi-potions and even a few Phoenix Downs. Then he thanked the woman, tucked their purchases away in the bag, and flopped down on the bench outside the diner. He stretched his legs out in front of him as far as they’d go and lifted his arms up over his head, groaning in pleasure as his shoulders popped. “Pop a squat, Prompto.”

Prompto’s heart jumped into his throat. Had Ignis told Gladio what had happened? Was Gladio going to scream at him, or punch him, or…

“Shit, don’t look like I’m holding a sword to your throat,” the Shield grumbled. He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “We just need to have a talk. So take a seat.”

Prompto gulped but carefully sat on the edge of the bench, ready to bolt. As much as he knew he deserved whatever Gladio was about to dish up, his self-preservation instincts were still too strong to let him just sit there and take it. “Wh-What’s up?”

“I know you didn’t train as much as Iggy or me, or even Noct. You’re new to battle. I get it. But there’s no damned excuse for leaving your ally’s side in the middle of a fight.” Gladio’s voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder, promising the release of rain and threatening the violence of a storm. “Iggy could have died because you ditched him. You do get that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Prompto whispered to his hands. They were shaking again. How could he possibly explain why he’d run? He couldn’t even justify it to himself any more. He sucked in a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to buy himself time to figure out what to say. “I didn’t…a lot happened, and I…I know I’m not good enough, but—”

“Not good enough?” Gladio interrupted, incredulity in his deep voice. “You’re a member of the Crownsguard, aren’t you? Means the Marshal thought you were good enough to watch Noct’s back. That ain’t exactly easy to achieve.”

Prompto shook his head. Cor had only let him into the Crownsguard because Noct had begged to take him on the trip. “It’s not that easy, Gladio…”

Gladio snorted. “Nothing’s easy, kid. If it was, I’d be out of a job. What matters is how you handle the shit. And running away just won’t cut it.”

“I know,” Prompto repeated, the words barely a breath. He twisted his fingers together, watching them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. How could he possibly say he’d run away because he was afraid of hurting Ignis more than the MTs could have? “What did Ignis tell you?”

“You freaked out when you got surrounded and ran off, leaving him on his own. Damn good thing he’s one of the best fighters I’ve ever met.” Gladio shifted, making the bench creak, and sighed. “‘Course, he said you pulled yourself together enough to save his life, too.”

Prompto pried his fingers apart. Ignis thought he saved his life? Even after shooting him? Had Ignis not said anything about the whole “being a magitek unit” thing? Not mentioned Ardyn? Was he waiting for the right moment or something? “Oh.”

“There something more you want to tell me?” Gladio asked, surprisingly gently.

“Nope,” Prompto chirped as cheerfully as he could. He shrank back at the stern look Gladio gave him, though.

Gladio studied him for a long moment, then shook his head. “Fine. You and I are training from now on. Every morning, before His Highness drags his ass out of bed. We’re gonna find a way to keep you from pulling that stunt again. If it’d been Noct instead of Iggy…”

Prompto winced. He wanted to protest that he wouldn’t have run away if it had been Noctis, but he knew that was a lie. He would have run away to throw up anyway and probably gotten his best friend killed. And that thought only made him feel sick all over again. But he gave Gladio the brightest smile he could manage. “Yeah…that sounds good. Thanks, Gladio.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” The Shield chuckled gruffly and ruffled Prompto’s hair as he stood, the bench practically bouncing at the loss of his weight. “C’mon. Let’s get Iggy and Noct their meds before they start whining.”

Prompto took a breath, held it a moment, and let it out as he bounced to his feet. He had to tell them the truth eventually. But maybe…maybe it could wait another day. Wait until they’d rested and healed and he’d figured out how to get his own head back on straight first. No use babbling to them and making things sound worse than they were.

Worse than being an enemy soldier, apparently with some sort of programming that made him freeze up in the middle of battle. He couldn’t possibly make that sound worse than it was.

It was already a living nightmare.


	10. The Blur of Normalcy

The silence in the little motel room was as thick and cold as refrigerated syrup. And Prompto would know; he’d practically lived on pre-made waffles for months when he was younger.

Gladio tended Noctis’ wounds with the curatives they’d bought, then gingerly helped Ignis out of his torn jacket and shirt to do the same. The entire time, no one said a word.

Prompto sat in the corner furthest from his friends, curled into a ball with his camera in his lap. He desperately wanted his chocobo hoodie, but he’d had Noct vanish it with the blankets at the campsite before they snuck into the Imperial base, since bright yellow didn’t really lend itself to being stealthy. And, besides, he didn’t deserve it any more. Not after what he’d done. So instead he tried to hide in the wallpaper and fidgeted with the his camera, twisting the exposure knob and uselessly clicking the shutter button.

“Hey, Prom.” Noctis’ whisper felt like a shout in the still room. He poked Prompto in the shoulder and jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

Prompto’s eyes flickered to Ignis and Gladio for a moment as he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave in case he had a chance to apologize, but Ignis was very pointedly keeping his back to him. And the silence was seriously grating on his nerves. He had no idea how much longer he could deal with it. So he nodded and pulled himself up. Anywhere was better than here right now.

They slipped out of the room in silence, into the warm night, and across the street to the Crow’s Nest.

The red leather seat of the booth groaned as Prompto slid into it. Some upbeat pop song he vaguely recognized blared over the radio, feeling strangely normal and out of place. The entire diner felt like some blast from the past: a blur of familiar, easy details in a world that had radically changed around it.

Noct ordered a huge plate of fries to share and lounged back on his side of the booth. His pale eyes studied Prompto with an intensity the prince rarely displayed. Finally, he shifted and demanded, “What the hell’s going on?”

Prompto blinked, then found himself smiling instinctively, using the cheerful facade he’d perfected so long ago without even thinking about it. Something about that was almost as painful as the car ride had been. When was the last time he’d put up that front with Noct? Man, it had to have been ages ago. Noct had called him out on it a couple times in high school and he’d trained himself to stop, at least around his friend. The fact that the old instinct had kicked in made him wince inside, but he pressed on. Too late to go back now. “Uh, we’re getting food that Ignis’d kill us over, dude. Surprised you didn’t go for a milkshake, too, since he’s not here.”

“Come on, man, don’t do this.” Noctis sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and leaning his cheek in his palm. “Something happened in that base. What did Specs do? You were making out like idiots back at the Haven and now you’re not talking to each other. Plus, you were a damn zombie the entire ride here. Like, an ‘I was seriously considering taking you out before you started biting’ kind of thing.”

“Sorry.” Prompto chuckled self-consciously and rubbed at the back of his neck. He knew he’d been kind of non-responsive in the car, but he hadn’t realized how bad it had been. Of course, he’d _shot Ignis_ and been told he wasn’t who he thought he was—but he couldn’t exactly tell that to his best friend. Not now. Not when Noct was the King of Lucis and Prompto was the enemy. The enemy who’d torn apart their home, killed Noct’s father and who knew how many innocents, and was planning something with the Astrals and MTs, and… “It’s just been a rough day, man. It’s nothing.”

Noct kicked him under the table. Hard. “ _Prompto._ ”

“Ow!” Prompto yelped, glaring half-heartedly at his friend. “The hell was that for?”

“For not freaking talking to me,” Noct said as if it should have been obvious. “I’m your friend, right? So tell me what the hell’s wrong and we’ll figure it out. Like we always have. I’ll yell at Specs if I have to.”

Prompto winced and reached down to rub his shin, nearly smacking his head on the table. Because that was exactly how his life was going at the moment. He wished he could tell Noct what had happened, why he was acting weird, but he didn’t see any way it wouldn’t end their friendship. And he really couldn’t handle that thought at the moment. He’d tell him eventually. Before he screwed up too badly. But tonight, he just needed a break. “Seriously, Noct. It’s…not really something you can fix. Just drop it. Please?”

“No. If it’s something Specs did, we’ll just—”

“It’s not Ignis!” Prompto insisted, his voice cracking. It _was_ Ignis, but not in the way Noctis thought. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. “Okay? I’m fine. Seriously. Just…let it go.”

Noct’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward over the table. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to go to Specs. And neither of us wants that.”

Prompto felt the blood draining out of his face before he could stop it. His left hand automatically closed over his right wrist. The idea of Noctis asking Ignis what had happened made his stomach flip. Ignis had made it clear he wouldn’t ever lie to the prince, and he wasn’t exactly the best at delivering bad news. If Noct was going to find out one way or another, Prompto at least wanted it to be from him. He wanted the death blow to be quick and easy. He swallowed hard. “Noct…come on…”

“I’m serious.”

“I can’t,” Prompto whispered, lowering his gaze to his hands. He tightened his grip on his wrist, the bracelet creaking and warping under his fingers. “You’re gonna hate me, dude, and I just…can’t stand that. Don’t make me. Please.”

Noct kicked him again, gentler this time, and scoffed quietly. “Like I’m going to hate my best friend.”

Prompto shook his head. “Trust me…you will.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask Ignis.” Noctis rolled his eyes and made to slide out of the booth.

Prompto made a weird little strangled noise that somehow resolved into “Noct, wait.”

The prince froze and turned slowly back toward his friend, his face patient and expectant.

Prompto gulped. It was rare he had Noct’s completely undivided attention like this. Had the prince’s gaze always been that intense? Since when did Noct looking at him make him want to crawl under a rock and never come out? He looked down again, fidgeting with his bracelet. Noct wasn’t going to give him a choice. He was going to have to come clean. Tell him everything. It was a miracle he didn’t throw up then and there just from the thought of it. “I…I’m…as it turns out, I’m one of them.”

For a long moment, Prompto was certain he’d said it so quietly that the words had disappeared under the sound of the music and the other diner patrons. He could feel Noct watching him, but he didn’t dare look up.

Someone slid a heaping plate of fries onto the table between them. The server probably asked if they needed anything, but all Prompto heard was Noct muttering, “we’re fine, thanks,” and footsteps skipping away.

“One of what?” Noct asked quietly. The ketchup bottle scraped across the tabletop and slid to a stop near Prompto’s arm. “Don’t explode it this time.”

Prompto snorted quietly and didn’t reach for the bottle. How the hell was Noct being so casual about this? He took a deep breath and whispered, “A Niff. Noct…I…”

“So what?” Noct grabbed a fry from the pile and shoved it into his mouth.

Prompto’s head snapped up and he stared open-mouthed at his friend. Noct couldn’t have heard him right. There was no way he’d be reacting this well if he’d heard. “I’m just told you that I’m a Niff, man.”

Noctis shrugged easily. “You’re still you, right? I mean, I seriously doubt you’ve been some crazy spy since we were kids. I definitely would have noticed.”

Prompto’s mind flashed to that chubby, pathetic kid he’d been in elementary school and the heat of embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck. “I guess. I mean, I don’t think I’m a spy or something, but…the MTs…have…have you seen their faces?”

“Nope. Why?” Noctis gabbed another handful of fries and popped them in his mouth one by one. “Bet they’re ugly bastards, huh?”

“They look like me,” Prompto whispered, turning his gaze pointedly to watch his fingers picking at a stray thread on his bracelet. “On the base, I…kind of shot one of their masks off and…I look like them. Noct…I…I _am_ one of them.”

Noctis paused in the middle of chewing and studied Prompto again. He swallowed audibly before asking, “You’re joking, right?”

Prompto shook his head sadly. “Wish I was, buddy.”

“But…how?” Noct asked in a breathless whisper.

“No clue.” Prompto shrugged. He still couldn’t look up. He couldn’t bare to see the expression on his friend’s face. Part of him wished Noct would just summon a sword and run him through already. Then he wouldn’t have to wonder where the prince stood, wouldn’t have to keep feeling awful for betraying his friends with something he couldn’t even help. “But I…I’ve got this print code and…I just…all I know is I was supposed to be an MT.”

“But they’re not even human,” Noctis insisted.

Prompto shrugged again and forced himself to stop picking at the bracelet, simply closing his hand around it.  “Yeah…I didn’t think so, either.”

“They don’t _bleed_ ,” Noct protested, his voice low and tight the way it only got when he was struggling with something. Normally homework or some state issue he couldn’t wrap his head around.

Prompto never thought he’d make his friend sound like that, too. It made his chest tighten, words sticking in his throat.

The weight of Noct’s incredulous stare made Prompto slide down in his seat. He wished he could just crawl under the table and rot there.

“You’re really not joking.” Noctis shifted on his side of the booth. His boot tapped against Prompto’s as he moved. “You seriously think you’re—”

“I don’t think,” Prompto interrupted with a groan. “I _know_ , Noct. I…the MTs all had orders, right? Well, I…I couldn’t stop myself, okay? I tried. I really did, but…”

“What’re you talking about, man?” The leather of the booth creaked as Noct moved again.

The background music in the diner shifted from the upbeat pop to a slower, longing love song.

Prompto swallowed hard. Suddenly, the smell of greasy food that had always been so enticing before was entirely revolting. It took every everything he had to raise his eyes back to his friend. When he spoke, it was so soft he could barely hear his own voice. “I shot Iggy.”

“So that’s why he’s not talking to you,” Noctis breathed as understanding dawned. After a moment, he groaned and flopped back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face. He dropped his hands and watched Prompto intently. “Does he know? About the…stuff?”

Prompto very nearly scoffed. Of course Ignis knew. Ignis knew way before Noct had. Instead, he bit his lip hard and forced himself to nod. “Yeah. He was there when…I mean, obviously he was, it’s not like I could have hurt him if he wasn’t, so…yeah.”

Noct’s face wrinkled into a thoughtful frown, his brow creasing. “Okay. So. Let me get this straight. You shot Specs. Because you’re an MT, and there were orders. And you, what, lost control of yourself or something?”

“That…yeah, that kind of sums it up, I guess.” Prompto tried to smile out of sheer instinct, but judging from Noct’s expression, it super didn’t work. He sighed and dropped his head to rest on his folded arms on the tabletop, hiding his face. “Total mess, right?”

Noctis snorted quietly. “You can say that again. But, Prom…you can’t expect me to believe Specs is giving you the cold shoulder because you did something you couldn’t control.”

Prompto just groaned in reply. That was exactly what was happening, and he couldn’t even blame Ignis for it. Whether or not he was in control of his own body, it was his finger that had pulled the trigger. It was his bullet that had made Ignis bleed. _It was his fault._

“He’s smarter than that.”

Prompto wasn’t sure which of them Noct was trying to convince with that statement. He wasn’t entirely sure it mattered, either.

“There’s no way he’d blame you for it,” Noctis insisted, though he sounded slightly less confident.

Prompto just groaned again.

They sat in silence for a moment as the music changed back to something punk rock and a handful of other people filed into the diner, chatting so happily it made Prompto’s heart ache.

“I’ll talk to him,” Noct suggested quietly. “Make him see it wasn’t your fault.”

Prompto’s head snapped up, inexplicable panic filling him at the thought of Noct talking to Ignis about all this. No matter what Noct thought, it _was_ his fault. “No, don’t. Noct, please. It’s…it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but…just…you don’t need to get involved. Seriously. I just…I knew it was too good to be true, you know? Stupid to think it could’ve worked out.”

Noct scowled and threw a fry at him. “It’s not over, you dumbass. You were barely dating for a full day. And I ordered you to be disgustingly happy, remember? Specs can’t disobey an order.”

“Neither can I, apparently,” Prompto mumbled miserably, flicking the fry back onto the table. “Mine are just shittier.”

Noctis winced. “That’s not what I meant…”

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Prompto asked instead of pursuing a conversation about following orders. He took hold of the ketchup bottle still sitting nearby and twisted the cap off, only to twist it right back on and repeat the process. It was something beside his bracelets to mess with, at least. “I literally just told you I’m a Niff and I shot Ignis and you’re just…”

He motioned vaguely at Noct with the ketchup bottle in one hand, not entirely certain what he had been trying to say.

“I told you,” Noctis replied calmly. He gave Prompto a little, self-conscious smile. “You’re my best friend. And you’re still you, no matter what the Empire’s doing. Who cares where you were born?”

Prompto had promised himself he wasn’t going to cry when he finally came clean to Noct. And he’d been doing so well keeping that promise to himself, too. But in that moment, realizing that Noctis actually meant those words and wasn’t going to start screaming or threatening him or force him to leave the group, he couldn’t help it. His eyes stung and hot tears rolled down his cheeks. For a moment, he was even actually afraid he might cry his contacts out. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Noct…”

“Look, Prom. I don’t really get how you’re supposed to be an MT or anything, but I know you. And I know Specs. And for as much as I’m going to give you shit about it, I really do want you to be happy. Okay?” Noct’s smile turned a little sad around the edge for a second and he slid a napkin across the table to Prompto.

Prompto snatched it up and blew his nose, a little too noisily for comfort. “Thanks, man. It…it means a lot. I’m sorry I’m such a wreck. You seriously deserve better than me.”

Noctis snorted quietly and tossed another fry across the table. “Don’t talk like that, dude. You’re going to make me go sappy on you, and you know I hate going sappy.”

“Yeah.” Prompto chuckled weakly and wiped his face before tucking the soiled napkin in a pocket to toss later. “Sorry.”

The waitress sidled up to their table, all smiles and poorly-hidden star-struck eyes—a look Prompto had seen on hundreds of faces when someone realized they were serving the Crown Prince of Lucis and a friend. She glanced between the two of them before letting her gaze settle on Noct. “Can I get you anything else?”

Noct considered a moment, then tossed Prompto a wicked grin. “Yeah, actually. Two milkshakes: strawberry for me, and chocolate banana for the crown citizen.”

She scribbled on her pad, flashed them another smile, and skipped away.

Prompto wiped his cheeks with the back of his forearm again, unable to stop the shy little smile stealing across his face. “Crown citizen, huh?”

“Don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be.” Noct shrugged easily. “You grew up in the Crown City. You’re a citizen in my book.”

“Yeah,” Prompto whispered. He finally unscrewed the ketchup bottle and carefully poured some out onto the plate of fries. He sniffled and glanced up at his friend, still completely in awe of the fact that Noct didn’t seem to have a problem with any of this. “I guess so.”


	11. The Blur of Ebony

Prompto wasn’t sure how long he and Noctis sat in the Crow’s Nest, eating fries and drinking their milkshakes as they talked. It felt simultaneously like an hour and an eternity. Their conversation spiraled around and around, now that Noct had gotten Prompto talking, and they discussed everything from _King’s Knight_ strategy to making contingency plans if Prompto’s brain went haywire again. He wasn’t terribly thrilled with the plan dubbed “Everything’s Gone to Serious Shit,” but at least he knew Noct would make good on the promise to put him down if he absolutely needed to. Anything to keep him from killing his friends.

Eventually, the star-struck waitress returned and shyly told them the diner was closing up for the night.

They pooled what little gil remained in their pockets to tip her as handsomely as they could, then slid out of the booth and strolled toward the door.

Prompto still felt a little shaky, and he wasn’t at all sure what they were going to find back in the motel room, but at least the world didn’t feel like it was trying to tilt until he fell off. That was something.

He grabbed Noct’s wrist before they reached the door to the room, pulling his friend to a stop. “Noct? Uh. Don’t tell Gladio about all this. Please? He’d flip.”

Noctis blinked, his eyes practically glowing in the harsh yellow light of the streetlamp. He remained quiet for a moment before sighing. “Prom…we’ve got to tell him.”

Prompto snatched his hand away like Noct had burned him. After all that talk in the diner, he’d been certain Noctis was on his side in everything.

“He’s my Shield,” Noctis continued. “He needs to be able to prepare. And, you know, I’ll probably need his help if we have to do Everything’s Gone to Serious Shit. Besides, if he knows, he can help Specs and me keep you from going off the deep end. I think.”

“He’s gonna _kill_ me,” Prompto whispered harshly, not bothering to try and hide his panic. He knew how Gladio felt about Niflheim, and for good reason. And Gladio could squash him without even trying, if he really wanted to. “I can hear it now, man: ‘We can’t risk having a Niff in the group, Noct. Especially not if he can’t control himself. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.’”

Noct gave Prompto a dry look. “That is the worst Gladio impression I’ve ever heard, dude. His voice is _way_ lower.”

“Noct,” Prompto whined, shoving at his friend. He appreciated the attempt to cheer him up, but he was actually super worried about Gladio’s reaction. “I’m being serious, here.”

“So am I.” Noct shoved back, gently. “You’ve got to tell him, if Specs hasn’t already. You know how he is about his job. He’ll freak worse if we don’t say anything and he finds out on his own. Just…trust me, Prompto.”

Prompto stared at him, studying him through the sulfurous light of the daemon-repelling lamps. He trusted Noct. He did. But that didn’t stop every fiber of his being from screaming that telling Gladiolus Amicitia about his crappy little secret was a terrible, awful idea. “You’ll make sure he doesn’t strangle me or something, right?”

“‘Course I will.” Noct hesitated a moment, then stepped closer and pulled Prompto into a tight, friendly hug. “I got your back, Prom. Promise.”

Prompto hugged back, using the contact to help ground him in the moment, keep him in the warm, mellow night instead of running away in terrible fantasies. It wasn’t often Noct showed his friends physical affection like this. Prompto could count on one hand how many times Noct had hugged him before, although they’d all been at times when he’d desperately wanted someone to just hold him for a minute. It definitely wasn’t an Ignis hug, but it was still exactly what he’d needed. He whispered into Noct’s shoulder, “thanks, buddy.”

“Hey.” Noctis stepped back abruptly and flicked his wrist. A fluffy chocobo hoodie appeared in his hand and he offered it with a grin. “I think this is yours.”

Prompto blinked at the pullover. He took it hesitantly, still not completely convinced he deserved to have it back, and crushed it to his chest. It was still so soft, and he couldn’t help thinking about that night at the Chocobo Post in the rain when Ignis had bought it for him. That night felt like it was so long ago, not only a few days. It felt like it belonged in a completely different world. But the sweatshirt was here and real and fuzzy.

If only he could bring himself to pull it on instead of just cradling it against his chest.

He forced a smile for his friend and tied the hoodie around his waist. “I guess…we should get this over with, huh?”

Noct watched him for a long moment before nodding and slipping the motel keycard into the reader. The door unlocked with a soft clunk and he pushed inside, holding the door open for Prompto.

The room was already dark except for tiny slivers of light creeping from under the bathroom door and around the edges of the window curtains. The shower was running, filling the room with the soft, rhythmic patter of falling water.

Prompto took his time closing the door and yanking his boots off, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When he could finally see, he realized someone was already bundled up in one of the two beds, but he couldn’t tell if it was Ignis or Gladio from the doorway.

Noctis dropped his own boots with a thump and padded silently to the bathroom door. After motioning for Prompto to remain quiet, he carefully opened the door and stuck his head in for half a second. He pulled back and closed the door without a sound, mouthing “Ignis” in Prompto’s direction.

Prompto’s heart twisted and he tried to swallow it down. Ignis was in the shower. That meant Ignis was still awake and Gladio was the one in bed. So much for getting the conversation over with tonight. Maybe Prompto could at least manage to get to sleep before Ignis finished his shower.

The water shut off.

Yeah, he should have known better than to hope for something like that. Apparently MTs only ever had shitty luck.

He jumped past Noctis, tripped over someone’s bag and went sprawling, slamming his head against the leg of the single table in the room. The table wobbled and a half-full can of Ebony tipped over the edge, dowsing Prompto’s face and shoulder with bitter, lukewarm coffee. “Ow…”

“You okay?” Noctis whispered, frozen closer to the bathroom.

The bathroom door snapped open and Ignis stood framed in the light, daggers in his hands. He wore nothing but a thin white towel slung hastily around his hips, not even his glasses. His wet hair hung in his face.

If Prompto hadn’t been spluttering Ebony with splitting pain in his head, he probably would have thought about how incredibly attractive Ignis looked in that moment, silhouetted against the bright bathroom light. Beautiful and fierce.

“Highness,” Ignis breathed after a long, tense heartbeat. He dispersed his daggers, pushed his hair out of his face, and yanked the towel higher up on his waist. “Thank goodness you’re back safe.”

Noctis snorted and motioned vaguely toward Gladio in bed, who let out a loud snore and rolled over. “Yeah, you guys seemed super worried about me being out all night.”

Ignis sighed and slipped back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Prompto gingerly sat up and winced as he realized he was dizzy. How hard had he hit his head? And the smell of coffee didn’t help, either. It smelled like Ignis. That was a whole other wave of dizzy, for a completely different reason. Ebony dripped into his eye and he hissed as it burned and blurred his vision. “Ow ow ow. Crap. _Ow!_ ”

“Prom?” Noct asked in quiet concern.

“Coffee,” Prompto managed as he scrubbed furiously at his eye. “Eye. _Ow._ ”

Noctis hissed in sympathy and crossed the room to pull Prompto’s arm over his shoulder and hoist him to his feet. “Got to wash that out, man. C’mon.”

Prompto let Noct manhandle him into the bathroom, only vaguely aware of an indignant huff as he bent over the sink to desperately rinse out his eyes. The water didn’t seem to help with the burning all that much, but at least it masked the hushed conversation behind him. He grabbed a clean paper cup from the edge of the sink and desperately plucked his contacts out, dropping them into the cup to wash out later before returning to splashing clean water in his eyes.

The bathroom door clicked quietly shut, but he didn’t turn around to see who had left.

Finally, the burning in his eye began to subside and he turned the water off. He straightened, but another wave of dizziness crashed over him and he had to catch himself on the edge of the sink before he fell over. Water dripped down his chin, plinking rhythmically into the porcelain basin.

A washcloth was shoved into the edge of his vision, held in long, delicate fingers crisscrossed all over with tiny scars. The nails looked like they’d been chewed all to hell until recently and were just starting to recover, the cuticles a downright mess.

Definitely not Noct’s hands.

Prompto swallowed hard and took the washcloth with mumbled thanks, drying his face off as best he could. He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to see Ignis, alone in the bathroom with him. He didn’t want to deal with the actual fallout from what had happened. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before.

But that was impossible.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto whispered into the harsh silence. His voice cracked and he winced, lowering his head again. He gripped the edge of the sink, partially to keep himself standing and partially to stop from fidgeting. “For everything.”

There was a soft shush of cloth against porcelain, nearly deafening in the small, steamy room, followed by the sharp, unmistakable sound of someone picking at their nails. When Ignis finally spoke, his voice was quiet and strangely uncertain. “I…I’m afraid I don’t know what to say.”

Prompto forced his gaze up from the sink and stared at the warped mirror on the wall. He looked awful: bags under his bloodshot eyes, hair matted and half-stained from the spilled Ebony, his cheeks splotchy and red from crying earlier. And behind him, sitting on the side of the tub all prim and proper even in only his loose pajama pants, was Ignis. Prompto couldn’t really make out his expression in the mirror, and he knew if he turned around, he’d be able to see even less. “Well, um. Can you…forgive me? I never…you know I’d never hurt you, right? I mean…not if I’ve got a choice, at least.”

Even in the blurry reflection, Prompto could see Ignis visibly force himself to stop picking at his nails and reach up to adjust glasses that weren’t there. “I’m aware. But the fact remains: we simply don’t know what happened. And that…”

“Makes me dangerous,” Prompto finished the thought when Ignis trailed off. He closed his eyes and bent over, bracing his forehead on the cool edge of the sink. He was still so dizzy. All he wanted to do was ask Ignis to hug him and fall asleep in Ignis’ embrace, but he really didn’t have the courage for that.

“I was going to say ‘makes me anxious,’” Ignis muttered. He sighed and, for a brief second, picked at his nails again. “Without knowing the exact trigger for these behaviors, there’s no telling when it might recur. And should it happen in a location or time that puts Noct in danger—”

“I get it.” And he did. Ignis’ first priority was Noctis. It always had been. That was just the way it was for someone as dedicated as Ignis. Prompto sighed and tried to straighten so he could wash out his contacts and leave the bathroom, but his head spun. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, blinking dazedly up at Ignis’ fuzzy, concerned face. “Uh. I’m okay. Sorry. Just…dizzy.”

Ignis took Prompto’s chin and tilted his head back, frowning. “Prompto…did you hit your head?”

“Maybe a little?” Prompto really wanted to lean forward and kiss Ignis, convince himself that everything was going to be okay. But they’d only just barely started to talk again. A kiss seemed like a terrible idea. Especially with how much his head was still swimming. How hard had he hit it? But more importantly, Ignis was touching him with no gloves on for the first time. It sent a little thrill down his spine. How could he possibly resist trying to go in for the kiss?

Thankfully, Ignis held his chin firmly, keeping his head in place. “I’d say more than a little. Stay put. I’ll fetch an elixir.”

Prompto whined despite himself, a soft keening sound in the back of his throat. He didn’t want Ignis to leave. Sure, things were still awkward as hell, and Ignis had pretty much just said he thought of Prompto as a threat, but the touch was _so nice_ , and Prompto craved it _so much_. He reached to stop Ignis, but he was too slow. For a long moment, he simply sat on the floor of the humid motel bathroom, staring dumbly at the hallway wall outside the door, trying to reconcile Ignis taking care of him with Ignis being pissed at him.

“Why’re you wasting meds on me?” Prompto asked quietly when Ignis returned, small elixir bottle in hand. “I’ll be fine. Always am. And you…after what I did…don’t you hate me?”

“No,” Ignis whispered as he pried the cork out of the bottle and pressed it to Prompto’s lips. “I don’t hate you, Prompto.”

Prompto instinctively gulped the sour liquid until the bottle was empty. His head instantly felt clearer. He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

“You shot me,” Ignis reminded, but his voice was surprisingly gentle. He tossed the empty elixir bottle into the little trash can under the sink and shifted so he sat with his back braced against the side of the tub, his long legs drawn up toward his chest. “As much as I know it wasn’t your decision, there are still…complicated emotions I must work out. Forgive me for the distress it’s caused you. I never intended to add to your troubles.”

Prompto blinked at him, squinting to try and bring Ignis’ face a little more into focus. It didn’t really work. But why the hell was Ignis apologizing to _him_? He was the one who’d pulled the trigger. “Of course I forgive you, Iggy. I…it’s not like…I mean…I get ‘complicated emotions.’”

“I imagine you would, especially after the last few days.” Ignis’ fingers picked at each other in his lap, the soft snap of nails against nails filling the silence.

Prompto realized suddenly that he hadn’t put his gloves back on. For some reason, this seemed like an incredibly momentous thing. “Iggy…your hands…”

“Hm?” Ignis glanced down and forced his hands apart. “Ah. Bad habit, I’m afraid.”

Prompto knew a thing or two about bad habits, too. But it was just so strange to realize that Ignis had one. One that he’d hidden so well that Prompto had never even suspected it, even after knowing Ignis for years. If Ignis had been hiding a bad habit and Prompto had been hiding his barcode, what else were they hiding from each other? What other things were going to come to light and make this harder than it already was? His throat tightened, making it hard to swallow.

“Are you all right?” Ignis asked quietly.

The note of uncertainty in his voice hit Prompto like a hammer to the chest. Ignis was just as lost as he was. They’d all grown up in the Crown City, safe and protected from the war. And now the world had been turned upside down, in more ways than one. They were destroying Niflheim bases, fighting soldiers on a daily basis, and that wasn’t even considering the weirdness that was trying to figure out relationships. For as much as he acted otherwise, Ignis was still only a few years older than him, Prompto reminded himself. He’d have to be a god not to be freaked out by all this.

Prompto swallowed again and squinted at Ignis. “You’re scared, too, huh?”

Ignis’ shoulders stiffened just enough for Prompto to notice through the blur of his shitty eyesight. It lasted a split second before Ignis slumped back against the tub and hid his face in his hand, muffling his whispered, “Terrified.”

“Because of me?” Prompto didn’t know what had made him ask the question. The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized he desperately didn’t want an answer. But it was too late to stuff the words back down his throat.

Ignis lowered his hand and shook his head. “Certainly not. _For_ you, though. I can only imagine how terrible this must be for you. And the prospect of turning on Noct—”

“We’ve got a plan,” Prompto interrupted, but it didn’t come out nearly as cheerful or hopeful as he’d wanted it to. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously as he felt Ignis’ gaze on him. “I…I told him what happened.”

“I see.”

Awkward silence filled the little room.

Prompto felt like he should be saying something, but he had no idea what. He’d already said “sorry” a hundred thousand times, and he didn’t know how to help Ignis not feel afraid when he was barely keeping it together himself. But the silence was too brittle, too stale, and he couldn’t just sit there. “Um. Ignis?”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind—I mean, if it’s not too weird…could you maybe give me a hug?” Prompto blurted out the question as quickly as he could. He desperately wanted to feel Ignis’ arms around him again, wanted to rest his head on Ignis’ solid chest, hear his heartbeat, and feel that safety and warmth he felt when Ignis was touching him. But with everything that had happened, he wasn’t sure Ignis would ever want to do something like that again.

There was another long moment of silence and Prompto had just started kicking himself mentally when Ignis shifted, held one arm out, and whispered, “Come here.”

Prompto very nearly cried with relief. He scrambled to Ignis’ side and wrapped his arms around the other man in a tight embrace. One he never wanted to let go.

Ignis curled his arms around Prompto in return, the bare skin of his chest hot and still damp from his shower. He gently rested his cheek against Prompto’s hair, his fingers drawing soft little circles along the back of Prompto’s shoulder.

It almost made Prompto’s heart jump out of his chest. He’d been craving the contact for what felt like days now, just this simple hug with the guy he had a massive crush on. The guy he might even love. The guy he’d been pretty sure hated his guts until just moments ago. And now the hug that every fiber of his being had been screaming for undid whatever walls he’d built up inside himself. Exhaustion sank into his bones in an instant and he groaned before he could stop himself.

“Prompto?” Ignis whispered, his fingers stilling.

“Don’t stop,” Prompto pleaded, just as quietly. “Please?”

Hesitantly, the soft, scarred fingers began their little circles again.

Prompto was pretty sure he could fall asleep there on the floor of the bathroom, in Ignis’ arms. It was almost perfect. Or maybe that was just the relief and the exhaustion talking. He wasn’t entirely sure. All he knew was that Ignis didn’t hate him. Ignis was still willing to hug him. Maybe Noct was right. Maybe this was going to work out somehow.

“I can’t forgive you, you know,” Ignis muttered, ripping Prompto back from the edge of dozing off.

“Wh-what?” Prompto braced a hand on Ignis’ stomach without thinking and tried to push back, but Ignis only tightened his hold, keeping him in place. “Why would you—”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Ignis’ hand slid down Prompto’s arm, his fingers just barely brushing along Prompto’s skin. His fingertips were rough, scars crisscrossing his palms. “You did everything you could. It isn’t your fault that the Empire exploited a weakness we had no defenses against.”

Prompto managed to pull away this time, but only far enough to let him meet Ignis’ gaze. He searched his companion’s face, stunned. If that was the way Ignis felt, why had things been so tense and awkward? “But—”

One elegant finger pressed against Prompto’s lips, cutting him off. “As I said before: complicated emotions. Forgive me?”

Prompto couldn’t help himself. He kissed the tip of Ignis’ finger and immediately went bright red when he realized he’d done it. “Always.”

“Thank you.” Ignis’ hand shifted, gently cupping Prompto’s cheek. His palm was so warm, the touch so comforting.

Prompto’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the contact. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Ignis’ lips brushed ever so lightly across his. His eyes snapped open and he stared at Ignis’ ear. “Iggy…”

“Too forward?” Ignis murmured, his breath hot against Prompto’s lips.

Prompto made an odd little strangled noise in reply and kissed him again. Just minutes before, he’d been convinced that their kisses at the Haven had been the first and the last. But now he was damn determined to let Ignis feel how relieved he was that that wasn’t the case.

Ignis slid his hand back and around to gently tangle in Prompto’s Ebony-soaked hair, his other hand gliding easily down to Prompto’s waist.

It was like a dream. The heat of Ignis’ skin against Prompto’s, their lips carefully memorizing each others’ shape, their breath gusting in perfect unison.

It took everything Prompto had to pull away and study Ignis’ face again. “Ignis…you…even with what I…what I am, you really…”

“Do shut up, darling,” Ignis said with a small little smirk. He pulled Prompto back in to start the soft, gentle kissing all over again.

Prompto wished it would go on forever. Or that he could stop time, stop the turning of the world, and just live eternally in this moment.

But his luck hadn’t changed all that much just yet.

Someone cleared his throat from the bathroom door and Prompto jerked away from Ignis, embarrassment already burning in his cheeks.

Noctis’ blurry form leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “Other people need to use the bathroom, you know.”

“Apologies, Highness,” Ignis said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. He shifted and gracefully stood, pulling Prompto with him. With an arm still around Prompto’s waist, he guided the shorter man past Noctis and out into the hall, grabbing a clean towel from the rack as they passed.

Noct gently swatted Prompto’s shoulder, which only made Prompto blush harder and stumble.

Ignis steadied him without a word.

The bathroom door snapped shut, leaving them in near total darkness.

“Hey, Ignis?” Prompto breathed, shifting closer to his companion.

Ignis hummed quietly as they padded their way toward the beds, careful of the bags strewn across the floor.

“This is gonna sound really weird,” Prompto admitted, his voice barely a breath, “but, uh…would you maybe wanna sleep with me tonight? I mean, not do anything weird or anything, but…I like you holding me…”

Ignis’ arm tightened ever so slightly around Prompto’s waist. “The beds are certainly large enough for two.”

“Noct’ll complain all day tomorrow if we make him sleep on the floor.” Prompto knew he shouldn’t be worried about Noct at the moment. He’d just asked Ignis to sleep with him, after all. He should definitely be freaking out about _that_.

“A consequence for staying out to all hours of the night,” Ignis said firmly. He led Prompto over to the free bed and only released him to pull back the blankets. “Sit down.”

Prompto did as he was told, flopping onto the bed. He started to lay down, but Ignis grabbed his shoulder and held him upright. Before he could complain, Ignis had dropped the towel over his head and was scrubbing the coffee out of his hair.

“You’ll want to take a proper shower in the morning,” Ignis said as he finished and moved away to drape the towel over one of the chairs. “But I imagine that ought to be good enough for the moment.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Prompto whispered through a massive yawn.

The bed creaked as Ignis climbed in on the other side and lay down. “You’re quite welcome.”

Prompto lay down on his side, snuggling into the curve of Ignis’ body, his head tucked up comfortably under Ignis’ chin. He’d never slept in the same bed as anyone except Noct before, and that was mostly a battle over blankets and pillows during high school sleepovers, not something soft and sweet and comforting.

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me,” he whispered into Ignis’ chest. “Couldn’t stand that.”

Ignis’ rough fingers drew little circles on Prompto’s back. “Go to sleep, Prompto.”

Prompto didn’t need the suggestion.


	12. The Blur of Gunshots

Prompto woke slowly the next morning, comfortable and cozy, when Ignis shifted beside him. He grumbled, groping to keep his breathing snuggle pillow from moving away. Ignis’ soft chuckle was the best thing Prompto had ever heard, planting warm sparks of light in his stomach. He was sure he was still dreaming, and he never wanted to wake up.

“Prompto,” Ignis whispered, his breath ruffling Prompto’s hair.

Prompto mumbled into Ignis’ chest in reply, not even entirely certain what he was trying to say. He just didn’t want Ignis to leave yet. He didn’t want to go back to the reality where he was an MT and he had to tell Gladio about it and the world was coming apart at the seams.

Ignis chuckled again. His lips drifted across Prompto’s forehead. “Do you want coffee?”

“Mmmhmm.” Prompto hadn’t really processed the question. He snuggled closer, refusing to release Ignis.

“Then you have to let me up.” Ignis’ warm, slightly-rough hands slid down Prompto’s back, fingertips catching on the fabric of his vest.

Prompto whined quietly as he felt a tug on the hoodie still tied around his waist. Did he have to get up? Couldn’t he avoid the nightmare his life had become for just a _little_ longer?

“Prompto,” Ignis muttered again, a little more insistently.

He had no shame in pulling a face. But it didn’t seem to sway Ignis at all. The tug at the sweatshirt continued until he reluctantly squirmed enough to allow Ignis to untie it and pull it off. He settled back into the pillows, groping to pull Ignis’s warmth toward him again, but the soft fuzz of the chocobo pullover settled over his bare arms like a blanket and he froze, finally cracking an eye open to blink blearily at Ignis. “Iggy?”

“Making coffee,” Ignis muttered in reply. He sat up and swung his feet to the floor, the bed creaking quietly with the movement. For a moment, he remained on the edge of the bed, fiddling with something Prompto couldn’t quite see, then he stood and padded silently away.

Prompto groaned and pulled the hoodie up over his head.

He must have dozed off again, because the next thing he remembered, the motel room smelled like freshly brewed coffee and Gladio was shaking him.

“Training time,” Gladio announced in a gruff murmur as Prompto rolled over to glare tiredly at him. The Shield grinned back. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

Prompto wanted to wave him off and go back to sleep, but he knew Gladio wouldn’t let him. Besides, he had agreed to train together in the hopes that it would help him not run away in the middle of battle again. He didn’t have an out. He groaned and forced himself to sit up, the hoodie falling into his lap. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”

Gladio chuckled and moved away from the bed, toward the little table where Ignis had set up the motel’s ancient coffee maker.

Yawning expansively, Prompto scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes and forced himself to roll out of bed. He was still exhausted—when was the last time he and Noct had stayed up all night like that?—but he managed to make it to the bathroom to scrub dried Ebony out of his hair, clean his contacts, and pop them in. By the time he finished, Ignis had drained most of the coffee pot and was engrossed in reading something on his phone, and Gladio was already outside.

Prompto hesitated a moment, feeling like he should say something to Ignis. But he couldn’t figure out what he felt that something should be. Eventually, he just sighed and slipped out of the room.

Gladio was stretching in the parking lot, the early morning light emphasizing his already impressive muscles. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned Prompto approached. “Up for a run? Figured we’d start light.”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” Prompto knew he should have just told Gladio then and there, but a run honestly sounded like just what he needed to wake up and brace himself for the conversation. How long had it been since he’d been on a run this early in the morning without going on a hunt for some monster? How long had it been since they’d left Insomnia? A little over a month? Why did it feel like years?

It was still cool as they trotted their way out of town, staying along the road. Prompto let Gladio set the pace, though the big guy was serious about taking it easy. Prompto could easily have run twice the speed and enjoyed it. But at this pace, they could still have a conversation without gasping for breath. What a mixed blessing. “Hey, Gladio?”

Gladio grunted in response.

Prompto hesitated. He should just come right out and say it, tell his companion that he was an MT and he’d shot Ignis. He’d told Noct last night. It should be easier to tell Gladio. Right? So why the hell wasn’t it? Their boots pounded the pavement in unison for a moment before he asked, “Do you really think we can do this? Take on Niflheim?”

“It’s not like we’ve got a choice.” Gladio shrugged his big shoulders, but he glanced at Prompto with an unreadable expression for a brief moment. “You gonna be okay?”

“Not really.” Prompto jogged to a stop. He wasn’t out of breath at all, but he couldn’t have this conversation while they were running. He just couldn’t. “I…Gladio, the Niffs are…kind of in my brain. I mean, not kind of, they are. Well, they’re _not_ , really, it’s just that I’m…uh, it’s weird.”

Gladio stopped running as well and turned toward Prompto, arms folded over his chest and eyebrows high. “Try that again from the top.”

Prompto gulped. Here it was. No turning back now. He was staring down the behemoth that was Gladiolus Amicitia, bracing himself for a rage unlike any other once the truth came out. All he could do was hope Gladio didn’t hit him too hard.

The explanation came out in a nearly-incoherent rush. Prompto picked at his bracelets the entire time, shifting his weight from foot to foot, ready to book it if Gladio tried to take a swing at him.

Luckily, the Shield didn’t seem too keen on punching. He did narrow his eyes, though, studying Prompto with an intensity that made him shiver. “How long were you planning on keeping me in the dark about this?”

Prompto chuckled uncomfortably and looked down, scuffing his boot along the pavement. “Uh, you know. It’s not like I was trying to hide it from you. I just…I only found out back at the base, and I…it’s not like saying I was cheating at _King’s Knight_ or something. I know I’m a danger to Noct, and you’re his Shield, and…I didn’t want you to make me leave. You guys are, like, the only friends I’ve ever known. I just…hope that things can stay the way they were.”

“Stay the way they were?” Gladio repeated, his voice gruff and flat. He stared at Prompto for a moment before he scoffed and turned, shaking his head. He took three steps away and whirled back around, face contorted in anger. When he spoke again, it was nearly a shout. “You put all of us in danger. What would’ve happened if we’d run into other MTs on the way here? You and I were the only ones who could still fight, and you’re telling me you might’ve turned traitor when we needed you? Protecting Noct isn’t just my _job_ , Prompto, it’s my goddamn _life_ . I was born to be his Shield! If he gets hurt in a way medicine can’t help—if he gets _killed_ —on my watch, because someone doesn’t give me information like he’s a fucking Niff—”

“I know!” Prompto yelled back before he could stop himself. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. It almost would have been better if Gladio had just slugged him and been done with it. He curled his hands into fists at his sides and blinked back stinging tears. “I _know_ , okay? It’s not like I’ve been hiding it on purpose! I _didn’t know_ , Gladio! And I still don’t want to believe it. But it’s not something I can change. I’m not—I’m still me! I don’t want to hurt Noct. I never have. You just…have to trust me!”

“The way Ignis trusted you?” Gladio growled.

The question hit Prompto worse than a physical punch. He wanted to double over and vomit again, or run away and find some place to hide until everything was over.

His internal pain must have shown on his face because Gladio instantly softened and rubbed at his forehead with his fingers. “Shit, Prompto, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

“You did, though,” Prompto whispered, unable to meet his companion’s gaze. “And…and you’re right. I messed up. Bad. I didn’t even want to. I tried to stop it, but…I get it. I’m way too much of a liability. You can’t protect Noct from his best friend.”

Gladio sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay,” Prompto continued quietly, staring at the asphalt. It wasn’t okay. At all. But if Gladio insisted he leave, what choice did he have? “Just…when we get back to Lestallum, I’ll…just go.”

“Damnit,” Gladio grumbled, beginning to pace in a circle like an agitated voretooth. After a long moment, he spoke again, his voice quieter and a little calmer. “Leaving now isn’t going to help. If anything, it’ll make things worse. Noct needs to stay at the top of his game until this is all sorted one way or another, not go running off like an idiot looking for you.”

Prompto winced. It was all about Noct. It had always been all about Noct. Why would he even hope Gladio might want him around just because? Stupid. Gladio tolerated him because he was Noct’s friend. It wasn’t like Gladio was best friends with Prompto himself or anything. Why would Gladio want him to stay, if not for Noct?

Gladio ran his hands over his face without stopping his pacing. He mumbled to himself under his breath, quiet enough that Prompto only caught a few words about planning and Niffs and setting up guards at night.

The more Gladio paced and mumbled, the more Prompto’s anxiety rose. It clawed at his chest and tightened his throat. What the hell was Gladio going to do, if not tell him to leave? Start trying to convince Noct to turn on him or something? Feed him to the MTs the next time they ran into some? Tie him up and stuff him in the trunk of the car instead of letting him help during a fight?

“Okay,” Gladio finally said loud enough that it was obvious Prompto was meant to hear. He stopped pacing and turned back to Prompto, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stick with me from here on out so I can keep an eye on you. You’re going to stay as far away from other MTs as possible. And you’re going to tell me _everything_ you know.”

Prompto gulped and took half a step backward before he could stop himself. _Other MTs_ . Was that what he was now? Just another of the Empire’s murder robots? “It’s not like I came with an instruction manual! Ardyn just dumped all this on me and…and vanished! I already told you everything I know, dude. But I…I’m still _me_. Noct and I already have some plans and stuff, and we’re not going to let anything happen to him. Even…even if it means I don’t make it.”

Gladio studied him for a long moment, his face unreadable and his shoulders tight.

Prompto braced himself for more shouting.

 _Airship incoming_ , the strange little knowledge-voice whispered in Prompto’s mind.

The hum of a magitek engine throbbed in the air before Gladio could get a word out.

Both of them looked up to search the sky.

Prompto’s heart jumped into his throat as the airship lowered itself not that far down the road from where they stood, ramp folding out from its belly to let seven troopers begin to jump to the ground. The clank of their armor made Prompto’s blood boil. Why now?

“Crap,” Gladio muttered. He held out his hand, summoning his great sword in a heartbeat. “Get back to town.”

“You can’t fight them on your own,” Prompto protested, his pistols appearing in his hands. Maybe he could use this to prove that he was still on Gladio’s side. Assuming he didn’t freeze up again. But Ardyn had said something about MTs being unable to hurt only a small group of people, right? And the freeze-ups had only happened twice so far. He could do this.

“Damn it, Prompto. Now’s not the time to play hero!” Gladio swept the huge sword to the side, blocking Prompto’s path. “Get back to the motel.”

Prompto threw himself to the ground and skidded along the asphalt beneath Gladio’s blade. He wasn’t going to just run away. Not when he had a chance to prove himself all over again. Maybe sliding on the ground hadn’t been such a great idea when he could have theoretically just walked around Gladio, but a little road rash would be worth it if he could get his friend to trust him again. Right?

His boots slapped heavily against the pavement as he ran toward the MTs, ignoring Gladio’s shout behind him. Part of him wondered if he should be more hesitant about killing them. He was one of them, whether he liked it or not. But they were trying to hurt the only friends he’d ever known. They were part of the reason his home was gone. Part of the reason his life was falling apart around him.

Anger surged inside him, hot and furious. These mechanical bastards were from the same place that had destroyed Insomnia, and now they were trying to ruin the only friendships Prompto had. The friendships that were more important to him than his own life.

Like hell was he going to let them succeed.

He let loose a strange, guttural scream as he finally came within range. For the first time, Prompto seriously wanted to kill something. He wanted them to suffer. And he wanted to be the cause of it.

Some tiny corner of his mind knew it was wrong. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a killer. But the rage was so intense, he had no idea what else to do with it.

His guns blazed in his hands. Bullets shrieked into metal armor. One of the MTs fell with a loud thud. Another one braced a rifle against its shoulder and started shooting back. The rest continued their slow, halting approach.

“Damn it!” Gladio shouted as he joined the fray. Sparks flew where his sword connected with magitek armor, the metal squealed as he reared back for another blow. “Don’t get killed!”

Prompto didn’t bother replying. A frighteningly large part of his mind was pretty sure that Gladio didn’t really care whether or not he got himself killed, as long as it didn’t affect Noct’s thinking or abilities. It was all he could do to shove that thought aside and focus on the battle.

Focus on the MTs. On taking out that burning anger on the things that deserved it. On watching Gladio’s back, even if Gladio didn’t think they were friends.

The troopers clanked and groaned as they approached, swinging axes and swords. The rifleman kept shooting, though its aim was terrible. Of course, even terrible aim will hit a mark on occasion.

Prompto saw the rifle swing toward Gladio, the Shield too absorbed with maneuvering his massive blade to notice. If he could warp like Noct, it would have been simple for Prompto to get to the rifleman and stop it from firing. But he was stuck with what he had: his guns and his wits. He gritted his teeth and jumped in front of Gladio, barely managing to aim before snapping off his own shot.

The MT’s bullet ripped into Prompto's side, just above his hip. He wanted to be cool like Ignis had been, but he couldn’t stop the pained scream. It _hurt_ . How the hell did people _not_ scream when they got shot?

Gladio growled and shoved Prompto aside so hard that he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Apparently oblivious of this fact, Gladio stalked forward and swung his sword wildly.

Prompto winced at each crunch of armor. He tried to haul himself back to his feet to help, but the pain in his hip made the world blur and tilt, forcing him to sit back down. That just raised the anger even more. He wanted to hurt something. _Badly_.

Gritting his teeth, he brought his pistols up and fired off a quick succession of shots. Three of the MTs fell with that eerily familiar shriek and a crash of metal.

Gladio made quick work of the remaining two. He drove his blade into the ground beside the asphalt and leaned on it to catch his breath. After a moment, he turned and dispersed the sword, clumping back to Prompto’s side. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Prompto lied in a pained groan. He twisted his wrists and his guns disappeared, freeing his hands to brace against the ground as he attempted to stand again. He was still angry. The fight hadn’t lasted long enough to really burn off the emotion. Even using the anger as fuel, he couldn’t force himself back to his feet through the pain, which only made him even more furious.

Gladio sighed and pulled a potion out of the air. “Here.”

Prompto growled and shoved him away. He didn’t want Gladio’s pity. That just made everything _so much worse_ . “I don’t need it. I’m _fine_.”

“You’re not fine,” Gladio protested, crushing the potion bottle over Prompto’s hip. He sat back on his heels and studied Prompto for a long moment before muttering, “Thanks. For taking that bullet for me.”

Prompto opened his mouth for some sassy comeback, but he realized Gladio was being earnest and simply groaned instead. He fell backward to lay on the warm asphalt, squeezing his eyes shut tight as the bullet wound knit itself back together. He didn’t want to be this pissed. He really didn’t. Everything was just so messed up.

Gladio sat beside him with a quiet moan.

They stayed like that for several minutes, neither of them saying a word.

Prompto forced himself to take deep breaths, to try and let the anger go. It wasn’t Gladio’s fault. It was Niflheim’s. And there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that. Not on his own. At least not until after Noct got to Altissia and reunited with Lady Lunafreya. After that, maybe he could figure out how to get his own revenge on the Empire. Somehow.

“Hey, Prompto.” Gladio’s voice broke the silence, quiet and thoughtful. “I owe you an apology. I over-reacted. Took shit out on you instead of thinking it through. Sorry.”

Prompto turned his head on the asphalt and pried his eyes open to stare at Gladio. He seemed sincerely apologetic, his shoulders slumped a little and his eyes soft and concerned. That caught Prompto off-guard. He swallowed and slowly sat up, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I mean, I get it. It’s not every day someone you’ve known for years drops something like that on you. Kinda a shock to the system.”

Gladio snorted quietly. “Yeah, you could say that. Doesn’t mean I didn’t screw up, though. Shouldn’t’ve yelled like that. Or brought up Iggy. That was a low blow. You didn’t deserve it.”  

“What happened to me posing a threat to Noct?” Prompto asked quietly, even though he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted an answer to that.

“You still might be,” Gladio answered quietly, his gruff voice practically dripping regret. He rested one big hand on Prompto’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “But we’ll figure it out. You said you and Noct had some plans, right? Fill me in. We’ll work on it. Might even be able to find some way to stop those freezes, huh? If we’re lucky.”

Prompto snorted before he could stop himself. When was the last time they’d gotten lucky? Everything had been shit since Insomnia fell, and it felt like things were just steadily getting worse.

“In the meantime, you tell me and Iggy if you get any more of those knowledge dumps. Those at least could be useful as hell.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Prompto tried to look on the bright side about that. He had been able to tell when the Empire was coming—admittedly, it hadn’t been much warning just now. Maybe he could find a way to get that knowledge in advance, the way he had back at the Disc. Maybe he could help that way.

Gladio heaved himself back to his feet with a groan. “C'mon. Let’s get back. I’ll bet Noct’s up by now.”

Prompto stood as well, the ghost of pain lingering in his hip. Going back to the motel sounded like the most brilliant idea he’d ever heard. He wanted to wrap himself up in his hoodie and the blankets and go back to sleep for a week. Preferably with Ignis holding him again. That had been nicer than he ever cared to admit aloud.

At least everyone knew now, he thought as they walked back into town in silence. That was a relief. No more hiding it. No more trying to brush off any weird knowledge he got as just getting lucky.

Now he just had to find a way to avoid randomly turning on his friends again. And hope like hell that they could actually stop him if he did.

Why couldn’t he have just been a normal Lucian?


	13. The Blur of Reconnaissance

Noct was indeed awake by the time Prompto and Gladio returned to the motel room. Well, for a given definition of “awake.” The prince sat in one of the bare wooden chairs, blinking blearily at his phone screen as he scrolled mechanically. He glanced up and gave them a sleepy smile, then went back to whatever he was doing on the phone.

Ignis glanced up from pouring over the collection of Niflheim documents on the table, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. His shoulders tightened just a little and his eyebrows lifted in an expression Prompto had come to realize was Ignis’ silent way of asking Gladio if everything was all right. “Ah. Welcome back.”

Gladio made a subtle little motion without lifting his hand from his side as he slipped into the room, kicking Noct’s chair on the way.

Prompto tried not to wonder what that hand signal was supposed to mean. Was Gladio saying everything was okay, or was he telling Ignis to prepare for some kind of trouble? Damn, Prompto wished he had been better at picking up the Crownsguard sign language. Maybe if he’d had more time to train, he would have gotten it.

More time. He was always going to be wishing he’d had more time now, wasn’t he? More time before Insomnia fell. More time with Noct before the wedding. More time training with the Crownsguard. More time in Ignis’ arms. More time for photographs on the road. More time before finding out what he was. Just…more time for everything.

“Everything all right?” Ignis asked. His mug clicked against the tabletop.

Prompto’s cheeks burned when he realized Ignis was talking to him, watching him with one of those looks of pinched concern. He chuckled self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, heh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Your shirt’s torn,” Ignis pointed out matter-of-factly. He stood and rounded the table, crouching down to rifle through his bag. “Ought to mend it before we head out. Won’t take a moment.”

“You don’t need to.” Prompto chuckled again and shrugged, moving toward the bed to grab his precious hoodie. He slipped it on over his torn and bloodstained shirt, even though it made his vest bunch strangely under his armpits. Worth it. “I’ll just wear this.”

Ignis glanced up at him over the rims of his glasses. “Prompto, it’s entirely too hot in Lestallum. You’ll roast the instant we’re close.”

Prompto waved his over-long sleeves in Ignis’ direction and gave him the broadest, silliest smile he could manage. Act normal. Act like he hadn’t just been pissed out of his mind, or gotten shot, or shouted at Gladio, or given himself road rash for being dumb. Maybe acting normal would help the rest of the anger dissipate. And maybe, eventually, he might even believe his own act. “I don’t roast, Iggy. I melt. There’s a _huge_ difference.”

“End result’s the same: you whining all day,” Gladio grumbled as he shoved dirty clothes back into his travel bag.

Prompto pouted and waved his sleeves in Gladio’s direction, too. “Come on, Big Guy, I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Nah,” Noct put in without looking up from his phone. “You’re worse.”

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto whined, shooting a betrayed glare at his best friend. “You’re supposed to back me up, buddy.”

Ignis heaved an exasperated sigh as he straightened, sewing kit in hand. “I need to re-attach Noct’s buttons anyway. Half an hour, at most, then we can be on our way.”

Prompto knew when he’d lost an argument. Not that it was much of an argument, anyway. He just didn’t want Ignis to feel like he had to take care of the rest of them so much. It wasn’t fair. And the protest had been a nice distraction from the chaos rumbling in his mind.

He made a show of reluctantly peeling his shirts off, handing Ignis his torn one, and flopping back on the bed with the hoodie back in place. As soon as Ignis was settled at the table again, however, Prompto was off the bed and hovering at his side. “Hey, Iggy?”

Ignis didn’t glance up, but hummed quietly as he threaded the needle. “Yes?”

“Teach me how to sew?” Prompto asked before he let himself chicken out.

Ignis glanced up, surprised, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Noct sounded like he was choking, but Prompto tried to ignore him.

“Are you certain?” Ignis asked quietly.

Prompto shrugged and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. “I need something to distract me. And I can be helpful, if I learn.”

Ignis studied him for another long moment before blinking and nodding. “Very well. Here, this needle’s threaded already.”

Prompto dropped down beside him and threw himself into the lesson, ignoring the looks Noct and Gladio kept throwing him as Gladio told the story of their morning battle.

Despite Ignis’ prediction, it was nearly an hour later when the mending was finally finished, Prompto’s sloppy stitches beside Ignis’ precise ones puckering the side of Prompto’s shirt. The four of them finished packing up their gear, checked out of the motel, and resumed the drive back to Lestallum.

Prompto leaned against the passenger side door, resting his head on his crossed arms and letting the hot, dry wind buffet his face.

Noct and Gladio spoke in low voices in the back and, for once, Prompto didn’t particularly want to know what they were discussing. Probably him. Probably their plans to keep him from going crazy again. What else would they be talking about?

He tried to shove the paranoia aside and focus on the wind, the blur of the world passing by, and the soothing music Ignis had put on the radio. He must have dozed off a little because the next thing he knew, the car was stopped and Noct was poking his cheek.

“Dude, you’re drooling,” Noct teased.

Prompto surged upright, nearly slamming their heads together, and wiped convulsively at his mouth with the back of his wrist. “What’s going on?”

“Saw a Niff ship,” Gladio explained gruffly, squinting off to the side of the road. “Big one. Figured we should take a look.”

“It looked like an airbase,” Ignis added. “But we need to do reconnaissance before we plan our attack.”

Prompto scrubbed at his face again as he tumbled out of the car. More Niffs. More MTs. More fighting. Of course. Why couldn’t they just have one day of peaceful travel?

Gladio and Ignis stepped off the road and started loping through the brush, leaving Noct and Prompto to follow.

“You gonna be okay?” Noctis asked in an undertone, his voice barely audible over the thump of their boots in the dust.

Prompto swallowed hard. He wanted to brush it off and promise he’d be fine, but he knew a lie like that could get his friends killed. He couldn’t tell if he’d freeze up, or if some weird MT order would force him to do awful things again. Until they got inside, he was a wild card. An unknown. A huge, volatile liability. “Dunno. Hope so.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Noct sighed and gently knocked his shoulder against Prompto’s.

They crept along the outside of the fort’s walls, keeping low and out of sight, until they came to a watch tower, loosely guarded by a handful of MTs.

Ignis stiffened and stopped walking, standing perfectly still for a long moment. His eyes flashed to Prompto, unmistakable fear in his gaze.

Prompto’s stomach dropped and he hunched his shoulders a little. What was that look for? Was Ignis afraid he’d shoot him again or something? Admittedly, it was kind of a justified fear. There was no telling what was waiting for them inside that base. For all they knew, it could be Ardyn and his tricks again. He swallowed hard and took a half-step back. “I…I’ll just wait with the car.”

“Like hell you will,” Noctis growled, grabbing his arm. The prince shot Ignis a firm look. “You’re part of the team, Prom. We need you.”

“Perhaps it would be better if he maintained some…distance from the magitek troops.” Ignis’ voice came out quiet, but firm. He lifted his hand as if to rub at his shoulder, then seemed to catch himself and simply adjusted his glove. “Until we have more information, Highness, I’m afraid—”

“We’re not leaving him behind,” Noct insisted. His fingers dug a little more firmly into Prompto’s arm. “What the hell, Specs?”

Ignis cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up, pointedly looking away.

Prompto’s chest tightened. What was happening? Ignis had seemed okay last night, when they’d kissed and he’d scrubbed Ebony out of Prompto’s hair. So why was he refusing to look at Prompto now? Mixed signals much? He shifted and tried to pull away from Noct’s grip. “It’s fine. I can at least make sure the Niffs don’t steal the car again, right?”

No one said it, but Prompto knew everyone was thinking it: _unless they order you to let them._

“He fought fine this morning.” Gladio’s voice broke the tense silence and he clapped one hand gently on Prompto’s shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t go off the rails.”

“Very well.” Ignis summoned his daggers and stalked forward, every line of his body taut as a wire.

Gladio cursed under his breath and trotted after him.

Noctis patted Prompto on the shoulder as he passed, smiling weakly. “Don’t mind Specs. He’s just paranoid. You’ll be fine.”

Prompto wanted to agree, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t just Ignis being paranoid, and they both knew it. Ignis had a legitimate reason to be afraid of bringing Prompto into a battle with MTs. The last time, Prompto had shot him.

But his friends were all engaged with the guards at the base of the tower now, and Prompto was still standing in the middle of nowhere. He sucked in a deep breath, summoned his pistols, and forced himself to stagger forward.

By the time he reached the others, they’d taken out the guards and Ignis and Noct were halfway up the tower.

Gladio leaned against the metal scaffolding and folded his arms, watching Prompto carefully. “You get anything?”

Prompto shook his head, then flopped into the dirt beside his companion. “Is Ignis pissed at me again?”

“Not pissed, exactly.” Gladio shrugged, the cloth of his jacket rustling against metal. “He’s just…working through some things.”

“Yeah, like me shooting him,” Prompto groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

Gladio nudged him with his boot. “If you’re going to fall apart, I’m actually gonna send you back to the car. I only vouched for you because you can still fight.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Prompto knew he sounded flat and sarcastic, but he didn’t really care. He’d thought Ignis had accepted his apology. Ignis had kissed him, for the Astrals’ sake. But apparently that forgiveness only went so far. How the hell did Ignis expect to date him if he couldn’t trust Prompto to fight alongside Noct? Trust was kind of a crucial part of relationships, wasn’t it?

Boots pounded down the metal steps. Prompto pulled his head up just in time to see Noct half-jump back to the ground, followed by Ignis elegantly taking the last step.

“What’s the plan?” Gladio asked, pushing off from the foot of the tower.

Prompto couldn’t help but notice that Ignis avoided his gaze as he spoke, his eyes fixed firmly on Gladio. “We need more information on the Empire’s movements, and whatever we can glean on magitek troopers.”

“Isn’t that what you and Prompto were doing at that last base?” Gladio grumbled.

Ignis sighed. “Unfortunately, most of the documents we retrieved are encrypted. I was attempting to break the code this morning, but it seems to follow no cryptography rules or patterns that I’m aware of. If we wish to actually use the information we’ve obtained, we need someone from the Empire to help us decode it.”

“So, what, we’re going to kidnap some random soldier?” Gladio frowned between Noct and Ignis.

“Not exactly.” Ignis pulled his glasses off and polished the lenses on a cloth he pulled from his pocket. “It seems there’s a commander of some nature in residence.”

Gladio groaned. “We’re kidnapping a Niff commander. That’s _so_ much better.”

“I should really go back to the car,” Prompto muttered. His gut twisted and he tried to swallow down a mouthful of bile. What if this commander was one of the people MTs couldn’t hurt? What if he knew that Prompto was an MT and ordered him to do something awful?

Noct shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”

“No,” Ignis said firmly. He replaced his glasses and fixed Noct with one of his stern teacher stares. “I know your feelings on the matter, Highness, but this is non-negotiable. We can’t risk—”

“Can’t risk Prompto turning on us?” Noct demanded bitterly. He glowered at the taller man, pale eyes practically sparking and jaw tight enough to cut glass. “He won’t.”

“You can’t know that.” Ignis sighed again, for all appearances completely unmoved by his prince’s show of anger. “There are too many variables, too many unknowns, to be certain that—”

“It’s _Prompto_ ,” Noct insisted, pointing emphatically in Prompto’s direction. “He’s not going to hurt me!”

“He shot me, Noctis!”

Prompto had never heard Ignis shout before. Not like that. It made his skin crawl. He buried his face in his hands again, fingers digging into his scalp. He didn’t want them to fight over him. He just wanted things to go back to normal. But he knew, deep down, that was impossible.

“Yeah, well, I’ve blown you up with bad spells and you’ve never told me to sit out a battle,” Noct retorted.

Prompto could imagine the look on Ignis’ face that accompanied the exasperated huff. “You’re not…”

“Not what, Ignis?” Noctis asked into the silence when Ignis trailed off. “Not an MT? Is that what you meant?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Gladio snarled. “Noct, listen. I want to trust Prompto as much as anyone, but Iggy’s right. We just don’t know enough.”

“I can’t believe you two. It’s _Prompto_ , for Astrals’ sake! He couldn’t hurt me even if he wanted to!”

Prompto knew Noct had meant it to be supportive, but it stung. Ignis and Gladio didn’t trust him in battle because of the weird MT stuff; he got that. But it sounded like Noct only trusted him because he didn’t think Prompto could actually fight well enough to pose a problem.

He surged to his feet, all the anger from the morning back in one, terrifying rush. He glowered between Noct, Ignis, and Gladio, hands shaking in fists at his sides. He needed to punch something. Or shoot something. But the only things nearby were his friends. He had to get out of here. Fast. “Just go without me. It’s not like I even fucking care.”

Biggest lie of the century. He cared. A lot. But he really wished he didn’t.

Before any of the others had a chance to respond, Prompto forced his legs to move. He marched away from the watchtower, away from the car, away from his best friend and the man he thought he might love, away from the Niff base, away from everything. He didn’t know where he was going, or what he was going to do, but at the moment, it didn’t really matter. He just needed some room to breathe.

And, hopefully, some way to burn off the anger before he exploded.


	14. The Blur of Dust

Prompto shoved his way through the knee-high grasses for a long time, steadily moving away from where he’d left his friends. He wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that none of them seemed to have come after him. They could have easily overtaken him if they’d tried. Especially Noct, who could have just warped after him.

But there was nothing except the thud of his own boots and the occasional call of an animal or monster.

Eventually, when he was thoroughly lost and even angrier than before, Prompto’s foot caught in some hidden little hole and he toppled face-first into the dirt. With a groan, he pushed himself up to sitting and brushed debris off his cheek and forehead, picking grass out of his hair. He couldn’t even _run away_ right. Pathetic.

He tilted his head back, squeezed his eyes shut to keep the frustrated tears contained, and forced himself to take a few deep, shaky breaths. He was being an idiot. He didn’t belong out here. He’d abandoned his friends on the Empire’s doorstep, and now he was completely alone in the middle of Six knew where, with no food, no potions, and no shelter. Guess he should have paid more attention to Gladio’s camping tips.

Prompto hadn’t meant to scream, but the sound ripped itself out of his throat before he could stop it—an audible manifestation of all the frustration and anger burning inside him with nowhere to go. He just wanted to be normal! He wanted to be Prompto Argentum, goofy photographer with a chocobo fascination and a massive, awkward crush on Ignis—not whatever the hell he was turning into.

The curious snuffle of an animal nearby made Prompto jump. He scrambled away from the sound, pistol appearing in his hand on reflex.

A herd of spiracorns stared him down, tails flicking and hooves scraping at the ground in agitation. As one, they surged forward.

Prompto screamed again, but this time out of surprise and fear rather than frustration. He couldn’t move fast enough to run away, and he definitely couldn’t take on an entire herd all by himself. But he started snapping off shots as quickly as he could anyway. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

One of the beasts reached him and slammed a rock-hard hoof into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He pressed his pistol against whatever part of the spiracorn he could reach and pulled the trigger.

It screamed and toppled sideways, but the others were on him in an instant.

 _This is it_ , he thought as he tried to scramble away. _This is how I die. Trampled to death in the middle of nowhere. All alone._

His chest throbbed. His head spun. Hooves and horns and tails buffeted him until he couldn’t see straight.

And then everything stopped.

For a moment that was entirely too long, Prompto was certain he was dead. Then he realized he was still in immense pain.

Gingerly, he forced himself to uncurl from the protective ball he’d made and blink blearily around.

Spiracorn corpses littered the field around him and, not far off, a tall woman in the most intricate black and red armor Prompto had ever seen was pulling a massive spear out of one of the monsters.

“Now what would a kid like you be doing out here all alone?” the woman asked as she turned toward Prompto. She planted her spear in the ground and leaned casually on it. “No offense, Shortcake, but you’re not exactly the spitting image of a competent Hunter. You know, with the whole ‘nearly getting yourself trampled to death’ thing.”

He couldn’t see her face through the spiky helmet she wore, but Prompto was pretty sure she was smirking at him. Sounded like it, at least. He sat up with a wince, clutching at his ribs. One of them might have been broken. Definitely hurt enough. But he tried to smile anyway. Good first impressions and all that, right? “It’s, uh, kind of a long story. Thanks for the help. Uh. I’m Prompto.”

“Sure you are,” the woman replied with a chuckle. She yanked her spear out of the ground and stepped closer, holding out a familiar blue bottle. “Looks like you could use this.”

“You’re literally a lifesaver,” Prompto gasped as he took the hi-potion and gulped it. The pain ebbed, allowing him to breathe again, and he smiled up at his mysterious savior. “Thank you so much…uh, what’s your name?”

“Aranea Highwind,” she replied. She pulled off her helmet and held it under her arm, smirking at him with full lips. “Mercenary. Thanks for the little break. I needed that.”

“Break from what?” Prompto asked, gingerly stretching his arms to test the results of the hi-potion. At least the almost-dying thing had drained the anger enough to let him have a normal conversation with the stranger who’d saved his life. One good thing out of it, he supposed.

Aranea shrugged, her armor clinking quietly. “Hunting daemons. Bowing and scraping to jackasses. Guarding bases. Take your pick.”

“Guarding bases?” Prompto swallowed hard. Had he just taken a curative from a Niflheim soldier? Why would someone working for the Empire want to help him? Well, he supposed he was technically an MT. Maybe she knew that somehow. Oh, no. What if she was one of those people he couldn't hurt? What if she tried to kidnap him or something? He tried to force his mind to stop panicking. She’d helped him. He had no reason to believe she’d turn around and try to hurt him. Right?

“Like I said: mercenary.” She swept her spear up to rest on her shoulder, and shifted her weight easily from one foot to the other. “Can you get up?”

He nodded and forced himself to his feet. If it weren’t for a few lingering bruises, he could have almost pretended he hadn’t gotten into a fight with an angry herd of spiracorns less than five minutes ago. “Man, seriously. Thanks for the help. Don’t think I would’ve made it if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Damn right, you wouldn’t’ve.” She chuckled. “You got somewhere safe to be? I’m not going to stick around to save your ass a second time.”

Prompto chuckled self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m, uh, kind of lost, honestly. You don’t have a map, do you?”

Aranea stared at him for a moment before snorting indelicately. “You’re kind of hopeless, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess. A little bit.” Prompto sighed, letting his hand fall. He _was_ hopeless. He’d spent the first half of his life learning to be self-sufficient since his parents weren’t around. But he’d gotten so used to having Noct and Ignis and Gladio around over the last few years that he’d kind of grown complacent. He thought he could rely on them to have his back. Well, he’d hoped, at least. But when push came to shove, he guessed he’d just fooled himself. They hadn’t even come after him when he ran away. “Look, I don’t want to be a problem or anything, and you’ve already saved my life, so…just forget about it. I’ll be fine. I’m like a cat—I always land on my feet somehow!”

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with that fake upbeat crap, but it honestly kind of makes me want to hit you.” She rolled her eyes and replaced her helmet. “Come on, kid. There’s a stronghold not far from here. I’ll give you a ride.”

“A ride?” Prompto glanced around, expecting a motorcycle or a chocobo or something. All he saw was the empty expanse of grassland. “Uh. On what?”

“I’ve got my very own airship. Lucky me.” Aranea motioned upward with her free hand. “Biggs, bring her down, will you?”

Prompto looked up and finally saw the Niflheim airship descending from the sky. How had he missed the sound of the engine? Why hadn’t that weird little MT sense told him there was a ship nearby? “Wait. You…you actually work for the Empire?”

“For now.” She shrugged and turned toward the ship. After a moment, she glanced over her shoulder. “That a problem for you?”

A problem? Trusting someone from the Empire? The last time they’d done that, Ardyn had screwed them over. Hard. But what choice did he have? He was lost, the sun was setting, and it wasn’t like his friends were anywhere around. So he forced a smile and swung his arms easily at his side. “Nah, I’m good.”

The airship whipped up a fierce wind as it dropped, ramp unfolding from its back.

Prompto squinted through the swirling blur of the dust and forced himself forward. Anxiety settled like a stone in his stomach as he grabbed hold of the ramp and started to hoist himself up. It had only been a few days since he’d been in a Niff airship, but in that time, everything had changed. It felt even more like a prison than it had before.

Aranea knelt down and grabbed his wrist to help pull him up. Her gauntlet caught on his bracelet. Before either of them noticed, the snap popped open and the leather fell away, revealing the barcode.

Prompto cursed and scrambled to replace the bracelet, even though his feet were still dangling in midair. No, no, no. Why did he have the worst luck?

Apparently ignoring the unusual behavior and the cursing, Aranea yanked him fully into the airship and closed the door. Her metal boots clanked as she walked away to rest her spear against the wall. “So, you’re one of them, huh? A magitek?”

“No,” he said immediately. He kept his hand clasped over his wrist, even though the bracelet was back in place.

She sighed, removing her helmet again to rest it on one of the benches, but didn’t turn to face him. “That print code. All the magitek troopers have one. Lets the Empire keep track of how many they’ve made. What I don’t get is how you can have one of those codes _and_ a personality. Unless you’re seriously lucky.”

Prompto chuckled sadly. Lucky? Him? It definitely didn’t feel like it. “Not so much. Um. What do you know about the MTs?”

“A bit. Not much. And nothing I’m going to share for free. Got to make some extra cash somehow.”

He winced. Of course a mercenary would want something in return. But they didn’t have any gil to spare. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Hey, I’m already saving your neck here, Shortcake.” Aranea finally turned back around and folded her arms. “You want anything more and you’re going to have to pay up.”

Prompto sat on the warm metal floor near the ramp, resting his forehead on his drawn-up knees. He stayed like that for a moment before sucking in a deep breath and forcing his head up. “Do you know any of the code the Empire uses?”

Silver eyebrows inched up. “I’ve picked some up here and there. What’s it to you?”

“How much do you need to help us crack it?” He asked before he could talk himself out of it. They didn’t have much money, sure, but maybe they could trade her something. Iggy’s cooking, or one of the dozens of weapons Noct and Gladio had collected from various arms merchants, or something. “We don’t have a lot, but we really need to be able to read this stuff. Could you help? Please?”

The eyebrows lifted impossibly high. Aranea laughed and sat beside her helmet. “Damn, you’re ballsy. Asking someone like me to help crack Imperial code. I like you.”

“So, you’ll help us?” Prompto asked hopefully.

She laughed again. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got nothing to lose. That print code on your wrist. You ever noticed the numbers inside those diamonds? That’s the encryption key.”

He looked down at his hand clamped tightly over his bracelet, his stomach attempting to crawl up his throat. The barcode was the key they’d needed all along. He didn’t know anything about code-breaking, but he was sure once he told Ignis, the genius would be able to figure it out. If Ignis would even talk to him. “Th-thanks.”

“Good luck with that, kid.” Aranea’s voice was soft, almost sad. The moment lasted half a second before the airship lurched and she was on her feet again, shouting at the pilot.

Prompto remained where he was for the rest of the short flight, staring at the back of his hand.


	15. The Blur of Sound

Aranea’s airship dropped Prompto on the road near the Regalia before turning for the nearby stronghold. He trudged his way back to the car and—surprised there was no sign of his friends—climbed into the backseat, sprawling out on the sun-warmed leather. After a moment, he dug his phone out of his pocket. Might as well play a few rounds of _King’s Knight_ while he waited for the others to come find him.

A flurry of notifications hit him when he woke the screen. He must have somehow turned his phone’s volume down to silent. Sixteen texts and four missed calls from Noct. Two texts and three missed calls from Gladio. Seven missed calls and voicemails from Ignis.

Well, at least they’d tried. He’d probably worried them half to death, even after the argument. He skimmed through the library of texts—mostly apologies and questions about where he was and if he was all right—then fired off a quick group message: “back @ car.” He probably should have apologized for disappearing, but he was too tired to deal with it right now.

His thumb hovered over the _King’s Knight_ app for a moment before he groaned and dropped his phone onto his belly. He folded his arms under his head, frowning up at the darkening sky. The daemons would be coming out soon. Would Aranea be hunting them? Would Prompto and his friends be able to get somewhere safe without fighting too many of them? Hell, would the others even get back to the car before the daemons started swarming?

The soft, familiar _whoosh_ of Noct’s warping made Prompto surge upright so fast he made himself dizzy.

“Prompto!” Noct shouted as he nearly barreled into the side of the Regalia. He braced himself on the car door and leaned inside, gasping to catch his breath. “Prom, are you okay? Where the hell did you go? Why didn’t you answer my texts? What happened?”

Prompto gave his friend the best smile he could manage and chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry, man. My phone turned itself off or something. I’m fine. Just…blew off some steam. And, uh, I might have cracked the code on those Niff papers. Maybe.”

Noct’s eyes went wide and he vaulted into the backseat, nearly landing on Prompto’s ankles. “Tell me everything.”

“Uh. Ignis and Gladio are coming, right?” Prompto asked, unable to stop himself from glancing over Noct’s shoulder in the direction of the stronghold. He didn’t particularly want to tell the story more than once, if he could help it.

“They were right behind me.” Noct shrugged. He leaned forward to poke one of the fading bruises on Prompto’s bare arms. “The hell happened, dude? Is that a hoof print?”

“Okay, okay.” Prompto gave another little self-conscious chuckle. “I’ll tell you when they get here. Promise.”

Noct huffed impatiently but sprawled back against the car door. “Fine. Have it your way.”

It didn’t take long for Gladio and Ignis to join them, both slightly out of breath. Even in the growing darkness, Prompto couldn’t miss the puffiness and slight redness of Ignis’ eyes. Had Ignis been crying? Surely not. He must have just gotten something in his eye. Yeah. That was the only explanation that made sense.

“Are you all right?” Ignis gasped. The leather of his gloves creaked as he gripped the side of the car.

Prompto gave him a tight little smile. “Yeah. I’m fine. Where’ve you guys been?”

“Stayed near the base in case you came back.” Gladio shrugged and folded his arms. His face was unreadable, but Prompto got the sense that he was more uneasy than angry. He tilted his head ever so slightly toward Ignis. “These two couldn’t decide what to do, so we stayed put. Why the hell didn’t you answer our texts?”

Prompto winced a little and shifted in his seat. “Sorry. Um. Shouldn’t we get going or something? Before it gets dark?”

“Indeed,” Ignis muttered. He visibly forced his hands to release the car and shifted toward the driver’s door, but Gladio placed a hand on his shoulder and he froze.

“Let Noct drive. It’s not that far back to Old Lestallum.”

Ignis stiffened and opened his mouth to protest, but Noctis piped in before he could say anything. “I got it, Specs. Take a break. Gladio’ll navigate for me, right?”

Gladio nodded curtly.

Prompto’s gut twisted and he swallowed hard. With that arrangement, Gladio and Noct would sit in the front of the car, leaving him and Ignis in the back. He wasn’t really sure he was ready to talk to Ignis. Not yet. Weakly, he suggested, “I can drive?”

That earned him an exasperated look from all three of his companions.

“Hey! The tank’s full and Gladio already said it’s not that far.” Prompto protested as firmly as he could. It really wasn’t fair they were still holding that breakdown against him. It was practically forever ago.

Noct rolled his eyes and climbed pointedly between the front seats, plopping down in the driver’s seat and beginning to adjust it to better suit his height. “I’m driving. Just shut up and get in.”

Gladio yanked open the back door and practically shoved Ignis inside before rounding the car and sliding into the front passenger’s seat. He banged his knees on the dashboard and cursed quietly, but he only pushed the seat back a little bit.

No one said anything as Noctis started the car and made a u-turn.

The silence made Prompto want to squirm, and Ignis’ gaze on him wasn’t helping. He fidgeted in his lap and stared at the back of Gladio’s head, trying to put his words in order. Finally, he began to carefully recount what had happened after he ran away: the spiracorns, Aranea’s rescue, the shreds of information about the Empire she’d shared. He could have sworn he felt the barcode burning under his bracelet when he got to the bit about the encryption key.

“So the day wasn’t a waste, at least,” Ignis muttered. “That’s a relief.”

“Yeah.” Prompto shifted in his seat, squeezing a little closer to the car door. He already wasn’t touching Ignis, but better to be safe than sorry.

Silence descended again. This time, Noctis reached over and turned on the car radio, flipping through the stations in a blur of sound until he found his favorite. Then he pointedly engaged Gladio in a conversation about fishing lures that the Shield threw himself into with slightly too much enthusiasm.

Prompto wasn’t always the best at reading situations, but he was pretty damn sure his friends wanted him to feel safe enough to talk to Ignis without being overheard. If he _wanted_ to talk to Ignis, it would have been sweet. But he wasn’t really sure there was anything to say. Not yet, at least. He still needed to sort out his own feelings, figure out if he could actually be someone Ignis could trust.

“I must apologize for my words previously,” Ignis said, his voice nearly drowned by the rushing wind as Noct drove a little too fast back toward town. From the corner of his eye, Prompto saw Ignis slip his glasses off and set them in his lap, his gloved fingers messing with the earpieces. “I was…unfair.”

Prompto shook his head, but didn’t know how to respond. To be honest, Ignis had been completely fair in his assessment of the situation. There were too many unknowns to let Prompto back into a Niff base. It made sense. That wasn’t what had made Prompto run away, even though it hurt. But how the hell was he supposed to admit that he’d run because he’d realized his friends thought they couldn’t trust him at all, despite knowing him for years before the whole MT thing came to light?

More silence.

Ignis cleared his throat, twisting his glasses in his hands. “I realize it likely seems I’ve been acting erratically since…and I suppose it’s a sound assumption to make. It doesn’t excuse my actions, nor my words, and I’ve no expectation that you forgive me, but you need to know that I do still harbor strong feelings for you. I imagine it must seem like I’ve gone quite mad, kissing you last night and arguing against allowing you to accompany us today. And perhaps I have. I simply…I fear what the Empire could do, should you fall into their hands.”

“I know,” Prompto whispered, still staring steadfastly at Gladio’s ruffled hair. He bit his lip and twisted his fingers together, leg bouncing anxiously. “They could make me kill Noct. Or you or Gladio. Or spill secrets about the Crownsguard and stuff. Not that I ever learned any big secrets, but…they could make me do anything.”

“It’s not only Noct that I fear for,” Ignis admitted. The leather of the car seats groaned a little as he shifted to place a warm hand on Prompto’s knee. “I would never forgive myself should a strategy that I concocted put you in harm’s way, either. I can only imagine how terrifying it must be to lose control of your own actions like that. I wished to spare you that pain.”

Prompto finally turned to look at Ignis. He wanted to believe that. He really did. But he wasn’t sure he could. Noctis was and always would be Ignis’ first priority. Ignis’ actions were always about protecting Noct, even if that put the rest of them in danger. “I’m Crownsguard, too. It’s kind of my job to be in harm’s way so Noct isn’t.”

“This is so much bigger than anything any of us have trained for.” Ignis sighed and pulled his hand away to replace his glasses on his nose. “And I don’t believe there’s appropriate protocol for a situation such as this. Especially not when one throws romance into the mix.”

“Romance,” Prompto repeated quietly. He studied Ignis for several long moments, trying to figure out if he was more relieved or furious. It really was a weird combination. His heart pounded too hard against his ribs and his mouth was dry, but he wiped clammy palms on his pants. “Ignis. Look. I…I really, _really_ like you. But…it’s kind of obvious that you don’t really trust me. And, I mean—well, what I think I mean—it’s weird, I just…ugh. Let me try again.”

Ignis sat patiently, his brow furrowed just a little, watching as Prompto sucked in a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Back in the motel last night. You said there was nothing to forgive, and you knew it wasn’t my fault that I shot you. Which is great and all…except you don’t really believe that, do you? And I just…Iggy, I can’t…how can I trust you if you won’t trust me, you know? I just want to help. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I fight it so hard when it happens, and…I just want to go back to how things were.” Prompto hated the fact that his voice cracked at the end. He wasn’t going to cry again, damn it. He’d done so much of it lately, he was starting to feel like a total crybaby, and he was sure that wasn’t helping anyone’s trust issues. “So just…just tell me the truth. Please? Do you trust me or not?”

“I…” Ignis trailed off with a sigh. He said nothing for a time, frowning into the darkness, and Prompto swore his heart stopped.

He shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t really want an answer. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if Ignis said he didn’t trust him. How the hell could he be in love with someone who couldn’t trust him?

Finally, Ignis whispered, “I’m afraid it’s complicated. I trust the man I knew and helped train in Insomnia, but I’m also keenly aware of the fact that you—more than any of us—are at the mercy of the Empire. And I certainly do not, and cannot, trust Niflheim. Especially after the fiasco of the signing ceremony. It’s been quite…difficult to reconcile. I’m afraid I’ve done a poor job of keeping that internal struggle from affecting you, and I cannot apologize enough. Though, as I said, I’ve no expectation that you accept my apologies.”

Prompto swallowed a protest that that didn’t actually answer the question. Instead, he turned in the seat to fully face Ignis, tucking one leg up beneath him. It was probably dangerous, especially with how fast Noct was driving, but he didn’t really care. He wished it was just a little bit lighter, so he could see Ignis’ face better. Then again, the growing darkness at least helped hide the fact that he was close to tears. So maybe it was a blessing, after all. “You can’t trust the Empire, but…but I am the Empire. Kind of. I don’t want to be, but…I’ve got the key to their encrypted papers on my wrist, so it’s kind of unavoidable. I don’t trust them, either. But I want to trust _you_. And I just…I can’t figure out where we are, or what you want from me, and it’s driving me crazy. I just want everything to be okay again.”

Old Lestallum began cropping up around them with little ramshackle buildings, light pouring from their windows. Noct slowed the car down a little, still chatting quite loudly and amiably with Gladio about something completely unimportant.

“Prompto.” Ignis reached over and gently took one of Prompto’s hands in his, the leather of his glove soft and warm against Prompto’s skin. “I’ll feel much better when we decode those documents and have a better handle on the Empire’s plans. And, hopefully, some way to help you. Be patient for another day or two. Then we can sort out the future of our relationship, whatever it may be.”

Prompto stared down at their joined hands. He wanted to feel comforted by those words, but he really didn’t. In fact, he felt a little sick. Ignis had just dodged the questions, after all. What did that even mean? “Y-yeah. I guess.”

Gently, Ignis lifted Prompto’s hand and kissed his bare knuckles, lips barely brushing against skin. Just like that time in Lestallum, what felt like a lifetime ago.

Neither of them said anything as Noctis drove them through the old city, back to the motel where they’d stayed the night before. In fact, it wasn’t until they’d parked and Noct and Gladio had gone off to get another room that Prompto spoke again.

“Were you crying? When I ran away?” he asked in a hesitant whisper as they gathered their bags from the trunk of the car.

Ignis stiffened beside him, then sighed and visibly forced himself to relax. “I’m afraid I was rather a mess.”

“Because of me?”

“I blamed myself for your distress,” Ignis explained, busying himself with untangling the strap of Gladio’s bag from the camping gear instead of looking at Prompto. “I still do. And I admit I was quite concerned you’d get yourself hurt, or worse, and we wouldn’t be there to help.”

Prompto winced. That was exactly what had happened. For as angry as he’d been, and as lost as he currently was, Prompto couldn’t let Ignis blame himself for that. “It wasn’t your fault, Iggy. It was just…everything. No one trusts me any more, I don’t think. And that hurts, you know? I mean, I can’t blame you, with what I am, but I still just…I want my friends back.”

Ignis didn’t respond for a moment so long that Prompto worried he might not have heard his quiet admission. Then he turned abruptly, abandoning the bags and gear, and pulled Prompto into a crushing hug better suited to Gladio’s strength.

It knocked the air out of Prompto’s lungs, but he realized he didn’t actually mind. He wrapped his arms around Ignis in return, squeezing his eyes shut tight against his companion’s shoulder.

“I wish I could ease your burden.” Ignis’ voice was half sound and half a soft rumble in his chest, vibrating against Prompto’s cheek. His lips found Prompto’s temple and kissed gently before murmuring against his skin, “I wish I could take back everything I’ve done that caused you harm. I wish none of us were in this position to begin with. But impossible wishes do us no good.”

“Your pep talk could use some work.” Prompto chuckled weakly.

Ignis’ arms tightened even further around him. “Allow me to make one more wish, darling: I wish that you could see how much we desperately wish to help and protect you, how deeply your friendship runs. And how much it pains me that I need always think of Noctis’ safety, of the future of Lucis, and put that above any personal attachments and desires I may have. If I could, Prompto, I would find some place where the Empire can’t reach us and whisk you away to safety this instant. If I were another kind of man, I would forgo my oaths and my duty and devote myself solely to keeping you out of the Empire’s clutches. Noct and Gladio…they may not share the same types of feelings as I do, but I know their admiration runs just as strongly. We’re all muddling through this mess of a world we’ve inherited, and I’m afraid even our best isn’t often good enough. But I can at least remind you that, despite our clumsy attempts at accepting your heritage, we only wish to support you.”

Prompto wasn’t sure where in that speech he started crying exactly, but by the end, he had to pull away from the hug or risk ruining Ignis’ jacket with his tears. Noctis had given him lectures about having his back and being his friend before, but nothing like that. That was _poetic_ , and it somehow hit all the right chords to turn Prompto into some sort of blubbering mess. “Ignis…”

“We are all of us attempting to sort this mess as best we can.” Ignis produced a handkerchief from somewhere and gently used it to wipe away the tears on Prompto’s cheek. “The best thing we can do is to be patient with each other as we blunder.”

“Funny,” Gladio’s deep voice said, making Prompto jump. “Pretty sure I just said something similar to you a couple hours ago, Iggy.”

Ignis heaved an exasperated sigh. “Is it so unfathomable that I found the advice poignant?”

“Nah. Just funny that you’re spouting it to Prompto already. You normally take a week to admit I’m right.” Gladio pushed past them easily to grab his bag from the trunk and take Iggy and Prompto’s, too. He paused, the bags slung over his shoulders, and sized up his companions. “You two okay?”

Ignis gave Prompto a glance, obviously waiting for his response before answering.

Prompto swallowed. “Okay” seemed so far away, like it belonged in another world, to another version of himself. A Prompto who was still Lucian, still human. But he swiped the back of his wrist across his face, sniffled, and gave Gladio a shaky smile. He might not be his old self—might never be that person again—but he would find a way to get through it. He had to. For Ignis. For Noct. For that innocent kid he used to be. For the world he wished he lived in. “Y-yeah. We’re okay.”

Gladio studied him for another long moment before glancing to Ignis and nodding sharply. “Good. Let’s go, before His Highness somehow takes over both the beds.”

Prompto’s smile grew a little more genuine at that image. He grabbed Noct’s backpack from the ground as Ignis slammed the trunk shut. After a moment of hesitation, he dared to reach for Ignis’ hand as they walked toward the room. Even that simple contact, the subtle squeeze of Ignis’ fingers around his, helped loosen the knot that had taken up permanent residence in his gut just a little bit.

Sure, everything was shitty, but maybe things would be better in the morning, when they decoded the Niff papers. Maybe there would be something that could help in those pages. Maybe that knowledge would help Ignis reconcile his trust issues. Maybe they could even learn something big enough to help them defeat the Niffs once and for all. Maybe.

Prompto clung desperately to those thoughts to keep from clinging too tightly to Ignis’ hand. He just had to make it a few more days. Just until they figured out what was in those documents. He could do that. He could.

And in the meantime, maybe he could lose himself in Ignis’ touch. Forget about the trust issues and the Empire and his ‘heritage’ and just melt completely into the hugs and the hand-kisses. Yeah. That sounded like a really, _really_ good plan.


	16. The Blur of Experimentation

After a light training session with Gladio, Prompto spent a good portion of the next morning hunkered over the little motel table with Ignis, using the numbers in the diamonds of the print code to try and crack the Niff encryption. Of course, Ignis did most of the work, since Prompto was completely lost when it came to cryptography, but Prompto sat with his arm outstretched across the table and watched Ignis work. Every now and then, Ignis would surface from whatever thought-world he descended into and gently turn Prompto’s wrist or mutter something that was only barely intelligible.

Prompto would never admit how hot he found the entire process. He loved watching Ignis’ brain work. And the fact that it came with touches here and there was just a bonus.

“Four layers of encryption,” Ignis proclaimed eventually, sitting back in his chair. He removed his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes as his mouth drew down into a concerned frown. “And that last one was a Lucian cypher. Whoever encoded these documents knew at least some of the inner workings of Insomnian security protocols.”

Prompto stiffened and glanced to Gladio, who had been sitting on the unoccupied bed and reading while he waited for Ignis to finish the decoding and Noct to wake. The Shield’s brow furrowed, his shoulders tight and his book nearly ripping in his grip. “There was a Niff spy in Insomnia all this time?”

“It’s possible.” Ignis sighed and replaced his glasses, leaning forward again to shuffle the documents in front of him. “There’s also the possibility that they intercepted and decoded one of our own communiqués, then decided to use our own cypher in an attempt to throw us off. Or even simple coincidence. Unfortunately, our encryption isn’t nearly as secure as theirs, it seems.”

Gladio made a soft, noncommittal grunt.

“But you can read the papers now, right?” Prompto asked quietly into the silence, looking back to Ignis.

He nodded thoughtfully. “I believe so. Though it may take me some time to properly translate everything.”

Gladio stood with a rustle of sheets and leather clothing. “Do it in the car. We should get back to Lestallum.”

“Indeed.” Ignis pulled the documents into a neat stack and set the notebook he’d been using for the decoding on top. That done, he gently took Prompto’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you for your help.”

Prompto’s entire face heated and he chuckled self-consciously. “It’s not like I did much.”

“You did more than you know,” Ignis muttered, kissing Prompto’s knuckles again.

Prompto shook his head and gingerly pulled his hand back, but he didn’t protest this time. How could he, when Ignis was looking at him so tenderly that it made him want to melt?

Noctis’ annoyed groan pulled Prompto out of that reverie and he glanced over to see Gladio bodily slinging the mostly-asleep Noct over his shoulder. The Shield turned and grabbed two of the bags with his free hand. “Let’s go.”

“What’s the rush?” Prompto asked, trying and failing to hide his grin.

“Iris texted. Said there’s a boat for us in Cape Caem.” Gladio accented his words by jostling Noct on his shoulder. “Sooner we pick her up, the sooner we can get this leach to Lady Lunafreya.”

Noctis groaned again. “Not a leach.”

“Whatever you say, Highness,” Gladio agreed, rolling his eyes.

Prompto bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud. It felt weird to be thinking about laughing again. Good, but weird. Maybe things would be okay after all.

They piled their bags in the car and climbed in—Gladio behind the wheel, Noct snoring in the front passenger’s seat, and Ignis and Prompto in the back again. As Gladio pulled out of the motel parking lot, Prompto scooted into the middle seat and bravely leaned his head on Ignis’ shoulder, watching Ignis’ pen scribbling across the page of his notebook.

The first few documents seemed innocuous enough. Reports from the base they’d gathered them from. Someone had been reprimanded for leaving his post. Someone else had complained about supplies. Nothing useful.

Eventually, Prompto sat up and stretched, wincing as he rolled his neck to try and work the kink out. Resting on Ignis’ shoulder had been nice, but holding the position so long hadn’t been great for his muscles. Ouch. He shifted to dig his camera out from where he’d stashed it under the seat and occupied himself taking photos for a while—mostly of Ignis absorbed in his work, though he managed a few embarrassing snaps of Noct drooling on the seat and mumbling in his sleep.

Ignis spoke under his breath as he translated, but it was too quiet for Prompto to catch until the word “ _finally_.”

“Found something?” Gladio asked from the front seat, risking a glance back at Ignis.

“Possibly.” Ignis’ pen scratched faster, then stopped altogether as he scanned back over his work. “It seems the Empire is withdrawing its forces from Lucis.”

“What?” Prompto had heard the statement, but he couldn’t believe it. Why the hell would Niflheim withdraw? They were winning the war, weren’t they?

Ignis shook his head and frowned at his notes. “Apparently, there have been reports of increased daemon activity, and magitek soldiers…malfunctioning.”

Prompto didn’t miss the odd little glance Ignis gave him at “malfunctioning.” He swallowed hard, his stomach a pit of stone, and asked, “malfunctioning how?”

“The report doesn’t specify,” Ignis admitted with a soft sigh. He shifted the papers around to start decoding the next document. “But something to look out for.”

Something else to add to the list of things that were wrong with Prompto. Fun. As if being an MT wasn’t bad enough, now he had to worry about potentially “malfunctioning,” whatever the hell that meant.

He slid down in the seat until he could rest his head on the back and close his eyes. Why couldn’t anything just be simple for once?

The drive seemed to stretch into eternity. Noctis eventually woke up and distracted Prompto with idle talk, a couple rounds of _King’s Knight_ , and stupid animal videos on the ‘net. That helped a little, until Ignis made a startled little yelp and dropped his pen to the floorboard.

“Iggy?” Prompto asked, panic rising in his throat. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me see your wrist,” Ignis ordered firmly, holding out his gloved hand.

Prompto frowned at him, but offered his arm. He flinched despite himself as Ignis peeled off his bracelet and frowned at the barcode.

“The serial number’s the same,” Ignis muttered, eyes wide behind his glasses. He replaced Prompto’s bracelet and released his wrist, scrambling to grab his pen from the floor.

“Wh-what?” Prompto clutched his wrist to his chest, squeezing his fingers over the leather strip.

Ignis was too absorbed in the translation to reply.

“What do you mean the serial number’s the same?” Noct demanded, twisting in his seat. “Specs. Hey. What the hell are you talking about?”

Ignis didn’t answer Noct, either.

“Hey.” Impatient, Noctis reached over the back of his seat and flicked Ignis’ forehead with his fingernail. When Ignis glanced up, startled, the prince gave him an exasperated look. “You gonna explain what that meant, or what?”

Ignis blinked and adjusted his glasses. “The serial number in Prompto’s print code is mentioned explicitly in this report. Number by number. If the intelligence Aranea gave him is correct, I would imagine each MT soldier has a unique identification number. Which means this report is likely about Prompto.”

Prompto stared at him, cold seeping into his bones. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, trying desperately to keep his stomach from heaving. “What’s it say?”

“I’m still working on that,” Ignis replied tersely, ducking his head over the papers once more.

Prompto and Noctis watched him intently, but neither of them said anything else.

When Ignis looked up again to meet Prompto’s gaze, his expression looked distinctly haunted. “These are research notes. Incomplete, and rather scattered, but…they seem to be documenting the…unique experiments conducted on…on _infants_.”

“And…” Prompto was freezing, even with the sweltering heat. It was like someone had replaced all the blood in his body with ice. Swallowing past the lump in his throat was physically painful. “And my…barcode number…it’s in there.”

The rush of wind as the Regalia sped down the highway roared in Prompto’s ears, only emphasizing the silence inside the car.

Ignis nodded slowly. His hand shook as he reached over to twine his fingers with Prompto’s.

“So you’re saying that Prom is…some kind of experiment?” Noct asked, frowning at the two of them. Then his face went slack with comprehension, the color draining out of his cheeks. “That’s how they make MTs? Experimenting on kids?”

“It would appear so,” Ignis muttered. With his free hand, he carefully closed his notebook and set it and the documents aside. “The fragments of reports here don’t specify exactly what sorts of experiments were undertaken, but…they do mention a child with your serial number disappearing from a laboratory. And a few hints that may allow us to extrapolate a treatment to help minimize the…side effects.”

“What kind of treatment?” Gladio asked as he maneuvered the car around a tight turn.

Ignis shook his head and tightened his fingers around Prompto’s. “I’m not certain just yet, but likely a combination of mental exercises and some sort of…medication regimen, for lack of a better term. I’m hesitant to prescribe anything in particular, since we’re uncertain of what might make the effects worse, but with a bit more time, I’m sure we can cobble something together.”

“M-medication?” Prompto squeaked. He’d had medicine when he was sick before, of course, but there was something terrifying about an experimental medication that may or may not help with the MT urges, even if Ignis was the one to put it together. There was no telling if it would actually help, or what sorts of side effects there might be. Would they be worse than freezing up in battle or getting forced to take orders? Probably not. But it still made him nervous. “Do you…do you really think I’ll need it?”

Ignis gave him a long, concerned look. “I’m not certain yet. We may be able to find adequate mental exercises to overcome whatever…programming they’ve done. Unfortunately, it’s still going to be rather a guessing game.”

Prompto clung to Ignis’ hand and nodded jerkily. Experiments and guessing games. This was definitely not how he’d expected this road trip to go. At all.

Then again, no one had expected Insomnia to fall, either. And he couldn’t have predicted Ignis wanting to date him. Since they’d left home, his entire life had become unexpected. He just wished he could actually enjoy it—the way he’d loved surprises back in high school—instead of freaking out at every new turn. Why couldn’t he just get a grip, already?

“We’ll take it slow,” Ignis promised gently, that concerned gaze still fixed on Prompto. “But at least we have a starting point.”

“How’re we going to make sure it’s working?” Gladio asked.

“We can’t just keep running around and fighting MTs forever,” Noct put in, frowning at them from over the top of his seat. “Besides, there are only problems at specific times, right?”

Prompto nodded weakly.

Ignis pried his hand away to rifle through the documents once more. “That, at least, I believe I have an answer to. Apparently MTs respond to a specific set of keywords. If we give you benign orders using the right key, you can practice fighting the compulsion. Assuming you’re comfortable with that plan of action, of course.”

“Y-yeah.” Prompto forced a smile. He’d rather try to fight off harmless orders from his friends than get blindsided by some Niff officer again. Or worse, the Chancellor himself. “Yeah, I can try that.”

“What’s the keyword?” Noct leaned over the seat to try and snatch one of the papers off Ignis’ lap, but Ignis easily swept them out of the prince’s grasp.

Ignis turned his gaze back to Prompto, studying Prompto’s face with an intensity that sent another shiver down his spine. “Do you trust me?”

What a loaded question, with all the talk about trust and romance last night. But he trusted Ignis. Didn’t he? What choice did he have, really? Let Ignis try this or risk being completely unprepared again?

Prompto nodded weakly. “Yeah. Of course I do.”

Ignis sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, twisting his body in the seat to fully face Prompto. “Prompto…order: hold out your left hand for a count of five. End order.”

Automatically, Prompto’s left hand extended, palm down. His eyes went wide as Ignis began to count, and he tried to force his hand down before “five.” It didn’t work. His arm was perfectly frozen in the air, even when he tried to push it down with his other hand. The moment Ignis finished counting, though, his shoulder relaxed and his entire arm went limp. “Holy crap.”

“And that can make him do _anything_?” Noctis asked quietly, his voice tight with nerves.

“Unfortunately,” Ignis replied. His brow furrowed just a little over the rims of his glasses. “Which is the core of the problem.”

Prompto stared at his own hand as he shook it out. “What about the whole freezing in the middle of a fight thing?”

“That, I’m afraid, appears to be an entirely different issue. Chancellor Izunia said it was linked to an inability to harm specific members of the Imperial Court. I’m…not certain whether the same methods will work to overcome that.” Ignis shook his head. “And without one of those specific individuals present, I’m afraid we might not be able to test any hypotheses.”

Gladio glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “So we might still be screwed if we get ambushed by some top general or something.”

“No way to tell.” Noct winced and turned around, sinking back into his seat and bracing his feet against the dashboard. He whistled lowly. “What a mess.”

“You’re telling me, man.” Prompto chuckled weakly, running his fingers through his hair. “At least you don’t have to worry about someone randomly getting you to, I don’t know, jump off a cliff or something.”

Prompto immediately wished he could take it back. The air in the car pulled taut as a wire and all three of his companions stiffened. Had they not thought about that possibility before? Were they all so focused on what he might been ordered to do to Noct that they hadn’t even thought about what he might be ordered to do to himself?

“We’ll find a way to overcome it,” Ignis said firmly. “As quickly as possible.”

“So get training,” Gladio suggested, stepping on the gas for a straightaway.

Prompto swallowed hard. “Wh-what do I do?”

“We’ll need to find some way for you to maintain your autonomy,” Ignis muttered, picking thoughtfully at the cloth of his gloves. “What happens when you feel compelled to fulfill an order?”

Prompto resisted the urge to curl up into a ball as he thought back on the order Ardyn had given him at the base. He fidgeted with his bracelets. “Well. Uh. I guess…it’s like I’m not really in control of my body any more. I can still think and stuff, but I can’t stop myself from moving. So my brain is screaming ‘stop,’ but I just…won’t stop.”

The tension in the air returned and Prompto didn’t miss the little shudder from Noct.

“You can still think,” Ignis repeated quietly. “For curiosity’s sake, would you attempt to think your own orders as I give you one? Sandwich the action between ‘order’ and ‘end order?’”

“I can try.”

Ignis frowned thoughtfully. “Ready?”

Prompto nodded and sucked in a breath.

As Ignis repeated his previous order, Prompto thought desperately _Order: don’t obey Ignis. End order._

Prompto’s arm lifted again without hesitation and he groaned. “Well, that didn’t work.”

Ignis counted to five, his frown deepening as Prompto’s arm went limp again. “Perhaps attempt it aloud?”

“Yeah, okay.” Prompto already had a bad feeling about this, but he smiled weakly all the same.

The spoken counter-order failed miserably, too. As did plugging his ears, shouting incoherently, singing, thinking of something completely random, and covering his head with his vest. Prompto couldn’t even remember all of the other things they tried. Each attempt blurred into the next, just as useless as the last.

By the time Ignis finally announced, “I think that’s enough for now,” Prompto’s shoulder was sore and he just wanted to take a nap. Apparently all this being ordered around was exhausting.

“We’ll find something,” Noct assured, twisting around in the front seat again to smile tightly at his friend. “There’s got to be something.”

Prompto returned the tense smile with an exhausted one and hoped fervently that he didn’t look as hopeless as he felt. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Any time.” Noct reached awkwardly between the seats to pat Prompto on the arm.

“Take a rest, Prompto,” Ignis instructed gently. He leaned forward to place the papers on the floorboard and pin them down with his shoe, then hesitantly reached to wrap an arm around Prompto’s shoulders.

Prompto stiffened a moment out of sheer surprise. Ignis was touching him, of his own volition. And it was nice. He huffed a soft sigh and scooted closer to make it less awkward for both of them. Ignis was so warm and solid against him.

“Lie down,” Ignis suggested, his lips brushing ever so lightly against Prompto’s temple.

Prompto started to mumble a protest, but it ended in an expansive yawn. Yeah, whatever happened when he had to follow an order really took it out of him. He squirmed down until he was lying in Ignis’ lap, curled up on the backseat of the Regalia with his feet pressed against the door. Ignis’ thigh made a remarkably comfortable pillow.

Ignis began to card his fingers through Prompto’s hair, stroking gently, like he was a cat.

“Man, I could’ve sworn I told you to be disgustingly happy when I _can’t_ see it,” Noct whined teasingly. “This is gross. Seriously.”

Prompto laughed and presented his best friend with a clear view of his middle finger.


	17. The Blur of Compliments

Prompto slept most of the rest of the way back to Lestallum, and managed to remain upright just long enough to stumble to a bed at the Leville once they arrived. Of course, that meant that he was awake even before Ignis the next morning. He showered, dressed, and slipped out of the hotel room as quietly as possible—but not before using his cellphone to snap a few shots of Ignis sleeping to prevent the shutter of his camera waking anyone up. Ignis so rarely looked that peaceful that Prompto just couldn’t resist.

The city was just as hot as he remembered, even before the sun properly rose, and he was sweating basically the moment he stepped out of the hotel. But he plopped gracelessly into a chair at the outdoor cafe and ordered the same thing he had last time—a glass of orange juice, an Ulwaat Berry muffin, and a side of Garula bacon. It had only been a couple of weeks, but there was something nostalgic about the meal. A reminder of what life was like before Niflheim came crashing into his DNA.

For a while, he sat at the cafe table and picked at his muffin and bacon, watching the sky dye itself pink and orange with the sunrise. Why did he never bring his camera down with him in the mornings? He could have gotten some really cool photos of the colored sky reflected in the water of the fountain. Stupid. But the fact that he was thinking about photography again instead of just freaking out about being an MT was a good sign. Right?

Yeah. If he thought about the normal things he loved—photography, chocobos, Ignis, video games—he could pretend all those awful things had never happened. At least for a little while.

He was so caught up in desperately trying to convince himself everything was all right that Ignis’ soft “good morning” made him jump and knock over his orange juice.

Prompto yelped and scrambled for the napkin to try and mop up the mess. “Oh! Iggy! I…uh. Didn’t know you were up yet.”

“It’s rare that I’m not the first one awake,” Ignis replied mildly as he snagged a napkin from an empty table to help. “Is everything all right?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Fine. Just woke up early, I guess.” Prompto glanced up and gave Ignis a smile that felt a hundred times more genuine than the smiles he’d been sharing lately. Ignis was gorgeous in the early morning light. Again. Just like the last time they sat in this little cafe together. Then again, Ignis was _always_ gorgeous. It was silly to think that he was more handsome when the light hit just right to highlight his cheekbones.

Ignis hummed quietly in reply as they finished cleaning up the spilled juice. He set the soggy napkins aside and settled in the chair across the table from Prompto, studying him with a soft, thoughtful expression. After a long moment, his lips twitched up into a small, subtle smile. “You’re quite handsome in the sunrise, you know.”

Prompto ducked his head in embarrassment, hoping to hide the blush before Ignis caught it. Handsome? Him? He couldn’t help the little self-conscious chuckle. “Still can’t really believe you’re into me, man. I mean, I’m…kind of a wreck, honestly. And not just because of all…this.”

He motioned vaguely at his right wrist, where the barcode was neatly hidden beneath the bracelets.

Ignis reached across the table and grabbed both of Prompto’s hands, holding them loosely enough that Prompto could pull away if he wanted to, but firmly enough to be comforting. “May I tell you a secret?”

Prompto nodded in surprise, glancing up at Ignis through his eyelashes instead of lifting his head.

“All of us are rather a mess,” Ignis said, dropping his voice into a near-whisper. He gently squeezed Prompto’s hands. “Have been since before we left the Crown City, honestly. I…had suspicions the treaty wasn’t entirely legitimate, but we had no choice. I had no idea it would be as…catastrophic as it was. If I had had even the slightest inkling that Insomnia would fall, perhaps we could have prepared better for the resultant trauma. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been berating myself about it since we received the news.

“Gladio…” Ignis paused, head tilting just a little as he considered his words. “Gladio uses his duty to shield himself the way he shields Noct. It’s subtle, but he’s as much off-balance as you or I. And Noct is…well, Noctis. You’ve spent enough time with him throughout the last few years to realize how much he struggles on occasion.”

“Yeah,” Prompto muttered. He lowered his gaze to their joined hands, watching his thumb run mindless circles over Ignis’ gloved knuckles. It was part of the reason he tried so hard to remain upbeat and optimistic—to help try and ease some of Noct’s burden and make him smile. Well, he _had_ tried, until he just got completely overwhelmed by the bad news. A pang of guilt twisted his stomach. He’d come on this trip to keep Noct from going absolutely batshit, and instead he’d gotten caught up in feeling sorry for himself and freaking out about things he couldn’t even control.

He forced his gaze back up to Ignis’ face, finding it nearly as inscrutable as normal, and anxiously licked his lips. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Not totally fall apart.” Prompto pulled his hands away to pick at his muffin, licking tiny crumbs from his fingers. “I mean, you’re always so… _you_. I didn’t even know you were scared, too, until the other night. You’re always just…you’re so brave and strong and you’re always there for us, cooking and everything—and I’m just…a mess. Total wreck, crying all the time and…and shooting you, and everything.”

Ignis sighed, leaning back in his seat and adjusting his glasses. “May I make a proposal?”

Prompto shoved muffin in his mouth to keep himself from rambling more and nodded.

“May we perhaps attempt to put that incident behind us? There’s no use continually tearing yourself down for an action you couldn’t help.” Ignis shifted, his shoe tapping gently against Prompto’s boot, and adjusted his glasses. “I realize I haven’t made it easy to move on, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But please. The physical wound has healed. Now let us attempt to heal the emotional scars, shall we?”

Prompto swallowed his mouthful of breakfast and smiled shakily. “Yeah. That…that sounds good.”

Ignis returned the smile, opened his mouth to say something, and was interrupted by the arrival of a tired-looking waiter. He calmly ordered a cup of iced Ebony and a vegetable omelette, waited for the man to shuffle away, and turned back to Prompto with a sigh. “As for your question: I have nearly two decades of training in outwardly controlling my emotions and actions to keep Noct safe. It’s…easier to maintain the facade than to admit to any true feeling, whether negative or positive. Unfortunately.”

“Oh.” Prompto glanced down again, fidgeting with the edge of the muffin wrapper. His eyes fell on Ignis’ hands, fixating on a loose thread on the seam of the gloves that hadn’t been there a few days ago. For some reason, it reminded him of the quiet click of picking nails in the motel bathroom. “Iggy? Um. Can I ask you another question?”

“Certainly.”

The waiter returned with Ignis’ coffee, giving Prompto another few moments to put his thoughts together.

“You get freaked out, too, right?” Prompto asked eventually. He took a breath and forced himself to plow ahead when Ignis nodded hesitantly. “And because you have to be Noct’s advisor all the time, you can’t just…break down like I do. But your hands…back in Old Lestallum, you said you had a bad habit when I asked about your hands. It’s part of how you freak out, isn’t it?”

“Keen eye.” Ignis smiled sadly, wiping condensation off the side of his glass with one finger. “I’m afraid it is. I picked it up when I first took responsibility for Noctis, I believe. It helped…ease the stress now and again, I suppose. Helped remind me that I was still human, not some automaton built solely for picking up after His Highness. I broke the habit for a time by wearing gloves, but I’m afraid I’ve slipped back into it since our stay at Galdin.”

Prompto hesitated a moment, then reached out to take Ignis’ hand in both of his, running his thumb over the loose thread on the glove. “You ever done this before? Picked out a seam?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ignis admitted in a whisper. He turned his hand in Prompto’s, long fingers wrapping gingerly around Prompto’s palm. “I must admit, the stress of looking after Noct in childhood pales in comparison to the last month or so.”

Prompto winced, but didn’t let himself pull his hand away. “Sorry. I…I know I haven’t exactly helped that.”

“As I haven’t helped your own anxieties.” Ignis smiled sadly and lifted Prompto’s hand to his lips. “I’m afraid we’ve rather been driving each other mad, haven’t we?”

Prompto chuckled weakly and ducked his head again, chewing the corner of his lip. “Guess so.”

“Prompto, look at me.”

He hesitantly lifted his eyes again, meeting Ignis’ gaze. He had expected to find some sort of judgement there, even after everything they’d shared since leaving home. But Ignis’ expression was soft and earnest and Prompto wanted to melt straight into it and stay there forever.

“We don’t know what else we may expect from the rest of this journey, what we might find when we arrive in Altissia, or what else Niflheim might have done to you in your infancy.” Ignis’ eyes flicked down for half a second before returning to Prompto’s face. His inhale was audible across the table, and his voice came out not much louder. “But regardless of what we may face, there is one certainty: I adore you. Flaws and all. And, if you’ll have me, I would very much like to court you. Formally.”

Prompto’s eyes went wide at that. Was Ignis seriously asking what he thought Ignis was asking? Why the hell did that make his throat close up and his stomach lurch? Probably because he wanted to launch himself across the table and kiss the daylight out of Ignis. Yeah. Probably. “Um, are you…you want to be my…my boyfriend? Even after…even though I’m—”

“Yes,” Ignis interrupted firmly. “I do.”

“Why?” Prompto asked before he realized the word was out of his mouth. He licked his lips anxiously and forced himself to keep his gaze on Ignis’ face as he waited for the answer.

Ignis lifted Prompto’s hand to his lips again, kissing each of the knuckles in succession this time. Between each soft press of lips, he murmured an endearment. “You’re brilliant. You’re devoted. You’re stronger than you believe. Your smile lights up the room.”

Prompto’s face grew hotter and hotter as Ignis continued, kissing back along the knuckles with a blur of compliments Prompto couldn’t bring himself to truly believe. But it was sweet. Incredibly sweet. And embarrassing as hell. Especially when Prompto knew he couldn’t compete with the poetry. He’d never been great with words. Not like Ignis, who was lavishing such beautiful compliments on him without end. What could he possibly do to repay that?

“So,” Ignis whispered after three more cycles of kisses along Prompto’s knuckles, “will you do me the honor of allowing me to properly court you?”

“Long as you don’t need to ask my dad or anything,” Prompto replied, his voice tight and squeaky. He chuckled self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. Of course, the moment he realized what he’d said, he winced. His parents were probably dead. Not much different from them never really being around while he was growing up, but still a crappily-timed joke. “Sorry. Uh. Just…pretend I didn’t…say…that. Um. Right. Yeah. I…Iggy, you know it sounds like you’re freaking proposing or something, right? Don’t think most people ask someone out like that any more.”

Ignis coughed quietly, a tinge of pink coloring his high cheekbones, and gingerly lowered Prompto’s hand back to the tabletop. “Should I take that as a ‘no?’”

“No! No, of course not!” Prompto spluttered, completely caught off-guard and totally enamored of Ignis’ blush. He’d never seen Ignis blush before. How the hell did it make him even more handsome? Was that even possible? And how could the handsomest, kindest, smartest man Prompto had ever met want to date _him_ ? No, not just date him, but _be his boyfriend_? Especially after everything they’d been dealing with for the last few days? He swallowed, feeling practically nauseous with excitement. “I just…I mean, we haven’t even really been on a proper date yet. The Chocobo Post doesn’t really count. I kind of ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Ignis protested gently. He squeezed Prompto’s hand and glanced up for a moment as the waiter brought out his omelette. He nodded gratefully and waited for the man to disappear before returning his attention fully to Prompto. “As I recall, we had quite a grand time after our…chat.”

The memory of riding a chocobo with Ignis made Prompto smile softly and duck his head again. It had been fun, even with the rain and revealing his barcode right before it. Maybe it hadn’t been what he’d hoped it would be, but it still had technically been a date. Right?

“However,” Ignis continued after a moment, finally releasing Prompto’s hand to cut into his breakfast, “if you’re concerned, I’m sure we can find the time for another attempt before you provide me your answer. Not at the Post, I’m afraid, but there has to be some romantic spot nearby we could commandeer for an afternoon.”

Prompto’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled shyly. A date that he didn’t royally screw up? That sounded so nice. But they’d already wasted so much time, wandering around Lucis for Noct to collect the Royal Arms. And Iris had been waiting for them for days. “That…that honestly sounds _amazing_ , but are you sure we have time?”

“From what Iris told me, the ship belonged to King Regis previously. It won’t leave without us.” Ignis smiled gently and took a long, slow sip of his iced coffee. “And I’m certain Noctis would enjoy some time to recover from all the travel.”

Prompto chewed on his lip as he studied Ignis’ face. A date. A real date. Not one where he was spilling what he thought was his deepest, darkest secret and trying his hardest not to break down. It sounded entirely too good to be true. But Ignis was serious. They could make the time. And, after everything, Prompto knew he needed it. He needed to be able to forget about Niflheim for a few hours. Forget about being an MT, and the mysterious order protocol thing. Forget about being some sort of experimental test subject. Forget about _everything_ except him and Ignis, and maybe some kisses or hand holding. Yeah. He needed that. Badly.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, unconsciously ripping the last of his bacon into tiny pieces as he watched Ignis chew his omelette. “The market’s cool and all, but it’s not really date-worthy.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a fresh napkin. “I have an idea, if you’ll humor me a bit.”

“Humor you?” Prompto asked with a surprised little chuckle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It requires leaving the city,” Ignis explained casually as he cut out a piece of some unidentifiable vegetable from his eggs. “We won’t go far, of course, but I know it’s quite a bit to ask.”

Leaving Lestallum for a date with Ignis? Leaving Noct and Gladio and Iris on their own here? Well, those three would be fine, really. But what if he and Ignis ran into MTs or monsters on the road? How far were they going to go? How long would they be gone?

 _What if Ignis just wants to kill you while you’re alone?_ A tiny, traitorous voice whispered under all the other questions.

Prompto did his best to quash it and smiled as brilliantly as he could. “Yeah, okay. I’m up for that.”

“Wonderful. Then we’ll leave once Gladio is up and about, shall we?” Ignis returned the smile, something that might have been relief sparkling in his eyes.

For the second time that morning, Prompto wished he could just melt into Ignis’ expression and wear the warmth like a blanket for the rest of time. Instead, he just let his smile grow wider. “Can’t wait.”


	18. The Blur of Water

It felt like forever before Gladio woke up. Ignis and Prompto spent the time chatting about small things, carefully keeping the conversation away from their voyage, or the Empire, or plans for anything beyond the immediate future. It was nice, to be able to talk about video games and books and their favorite foods. Almost like they were dating back in Insomnia, back when the world was still sane.

When Gladio did finally join them in the sweltering little cafe, Ignis announced that he and Prompto were going to leave Lestallum for the day in order to find some rare ingredient neither Prompto nor Gladio had ever heard of.

Gladio gave Ignis a dry look over his own cup of coffee. “You can just say you’re sneaking off to fuck, you know. We’re all big boys here.”

Prompto squeaked and immediately went bright red, ducking his head to try and hide the blush. Was that what Ignis had had in mind when he suggested the date outside Lestallum? Find a private place to have sex? They’d barely even kissed, let alone considered taking things further! He spluttered uselessly, almost wishing he could just spontaneously combust out of sheer embarrassment.

“At least we have the decency to seek privacy,” Ignis replied smartly, adjusting his glasses as he stared unflinchingly at Gladio. “Instead of flirting incessantly at all hours of the day, regardless of who’s watching.”

Gladio coughed and shot Ignis a glare.

“Wait, who was Gladio flirting with?” Prompto asked, glancing between the other two.

They both looked at him, Ignis with a fond little smile and Gladio with an incredulous snort.

“I knew you were hopeless when it came to people flirting with _you_ ,” Gladio said slowly. “But I didn’t realize you were that bad at flirting in general.”

Prompto’s face burned hotter and he reached over to shove at Gladio. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Noctis.” Ignis said it matter-of-factly as he finished off his third cup of iced coffee. “Gladio has been flirting with Noctis. For years. It’s a miracle His Highness hasn’t noticed and taken offense.”

Gladio rolled his eyes and flipped Ignis off. “Get out of here, Iggy. Go do something sickeningly romantic. I’ll keep everything under control here.”

“Much obliged.” Ignis flashed him a sharp smile and stood, tugging his jacket into place. “Prompto. Shall we?”

Prompto scrambled to his feet, his mind still attempting to grapple with this new information. Gladio was into Noct? How the hell had he missed that? Did Noct like Gladio back? That would make things _super_ awkward with Lunafreya.

“Prompto?” Ignis’ fingers gently twined with Prompto’s, yanking him out of his confused wonderings.

“Huh? Oh, right. Sorry. Let’s go.” Prompto grinned up at him, more than content to let everything else slide for now. They were finally going on a real date. He could worry about Gladio and Noctis later. Or maybe never. It wasn’t really any of his business whether his best friend was caught in a messy love triangle without realizing it, right? Yeah. That sounded like a good plan: ignoring it forever.

Ignis led Prompto down the broad streets and back to the place where they’d parked the Regalia the night before. They slid into the front seats, and Ignis pulled the car out of the parking space and back onto the main road.

“So, you gonna tell me where we’re going?” Prompto asked, propping his feet on the dashboard and sinking comfortably into his seat. “Or what we’re doing?”

Ignis hummed quietly. “Allow me some secrets, will you? Do you have your camera?”

“Nope.” Once again, Prompto mentally kicked himself for leaving it in the hotel room.

“A shame. Perhaps your phone camera will serve just as well.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Prompto shifted in his seat again. He glanced at Ignis and chewed on his lip a moment, considering whether or not he should ask what he wanted to ask. Finally, he took a breath and went for it. “Gladio wasn’t right about this date, was he? It’s not just…a sex thing? Is it?”

“Goodness, no,” Ignis assured quickly. He cleared his throat after a moment and tacked on, “Though I wouldn’t be averse should you decide you’d like to take our relationship in that direction, I assure you that this little outing was simply conceived to spend time together. A few hours to relax for once. Before either of us snaps again.”

“Oh. Right.” Prompto wasn’t quite sure whether he felt relieved or disappointed. A little bit of both, probably. Which was weird. He’d never really thought about sex with Ignis before. Well, that was a lie. He’d had fantasies back in high school, sure, but those were just pubescent daydreams about screwing anything with legs. Actually considering sex with Ignis, though? That was different. It made his heart beat too fast and his stomach twist up and his palms go clammy, so he tried to shove the thought away.

Just a date. On their own. To forget the rest of the world. That was all.

The drive was quiet and relaxing, and Prompto spent a good portion of it smiling down at his hand twined with Ignis’. It wasn’t until Ignis pulled the car over in front of the souvenir emporium that Prompto realized where they were.

“We’re not going to that creepy ice cave again, are we?” Prompto asked as Ignis turned off the engine.

Ignis chuckled softly. “No. But remember the waterfall that hid it? I thought it might be a nice place to cool off a bit. And it ought to provide a bit of a photographic challenge for you, I would imagine. Capturing moving water on film is notoriously difficult.”

Prompto paused in opening his door to give Ignis a surprised glance. “Let me get this straight. The first time you asked me out, you wanted to take me to the Chocobo Post, and now you’re taking me somewhere just because you thought I might have fun taking pictures of it?”

“Is that a problem?” Ignis asked casually as he rounded the front of the car.

Prompto frowned thoughtfully up at him, studying Ignis’ face as he put his thoughts in order. “It’s just that…those are things _I_ like to do. What about stuff _you_ like to do? I mean, if we’re going to be boyfriends, we can’t just do the things I like all the time.”

Ignis met his gaze and he smiled, just a little. He leaned down to press his lips very gently against Prompto’s, teasing a bit with his tongue. After a long, long moment, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “Perhaps the thing I enjoy is whatever makes you smile.”

“Iggy…” Heat rose in Prompto’s cheeks. How the hell was Ignis so smooth all the time? And where in the world had he learned to be such an amazing kisser?

“There will be time for other dates in the future,” Ignis murmured before kissing Prompto again. “Allow me to give you this one.”

By the time the kissing finally stopped, Prompto wasn’t entirely certain he would be able to walk down to the waterfall from the parking spot. His knees felt like happy jelly and he was hot all over—not just from the weather. But Ignis opened the car door for him, offered a hand, and in a heartbeat they were wandering down the dirt path and away from civilization.

The roar of the falls and the river beneath matched Prompto’s heartbeat as they picked their way down to the rocky shore. He hadn’t really realized how pretty the scenery was the last time they’d been here, but it was gorgeous. And it was only made more beautiful by Ignis’ presence.

Once they reached the river, Prompto dug out his cell phone, ignored the texts from Noct, and opened the camera app. It wasn’t nearly as good as having the real camera, but he’d make it work. After all, Ignis had picked this spot specifically to let him take photos.

He grabbed a few shots of the water, but the phone camera couldn’t really keep up with the motion, so they wound up looking mostly like giant, sparkly blurs. After quickly deleting those, he tried to get a couple of the foliage along the water’s edge. That didn’t really work, either. Finally, he turned the camera on Ignis for a couple candids.

“Taking photos of me?” Ignis asked, adjusting his glasses as he perched on a damp boulder near the water. “I hardly think I’m a fitting subject.”

“Who wouldn’t want to take pictures of their super-hot date?” Prompto asked with a laugh, shifting to a different angle to get Ignis’ profile against the background of the river. He didn’t miss the very slight pink tinge to Ignis’ cheeks. Had he ever made Ignis blush before? He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t remember. It was cute, and he made sure to get a zoomed-in shot of it before Ignis noticed.

Ignis cleared his throat and shifted on his rocky perch, but he didn’t protest.

Prompto quickly flicked through the images he’d managed to get so far, then grinned wickedly as a thought occurred to him. This was supposed to be a date, so why the hell was he taking photos in silence all alone? He had to get Ignis involved, as more than just an unwitting subject. “Hey, Ignis? What would you say to modeling for me?”

“Excuse me?” Ignis glanced at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I mean, like, for real,” Prompto clarified with a hopeful grin. “Not me just taking random pics of you.”

Ignis blinked, the blush spreading a little further across his cheeks. “I’m…not certain I could provide what you’re looking for, Prompto.”

“Sure you can.” Prompto skipped up to the boulder and grabbed Ignis’ hand, smiling up at him. The very idea of Ignis modeling for his crappy phone camera was enough to totally wipe away the rest of the world. This date had been the best thing they could have possibly done, and it had only just begun. “We’ll figure it out together. Come on. It’ll be fun. Please?”

For a long moment, Ignis studied Prompto’s face, uncertainty written on his own. Finally, he flashed a surprisingly shy little smile. “Very well. We can at least give it an attempt.”

Prompto grinned like an idiot and lifted himself up onto his tiptoes, braced against the slick rock, to give Ignis an awkward, sloppy, grateful kiss. Then he gently pulled Ignis off the boulder and closer to the waterfall, babbling about potential poses and photo ideas.

It was a little strange seeing Ignis so uncertain and shy, and Prompto enjoyed every moment of coaching him through his ideas. Most of them wound up looking silly or coming out with crappy lighting or a weird angle, but he didn’t really care. He was going to cycle through them on his phone lock screen anyway.

As the lighting shifted, the sun slipping higher and glittering along the surface of the river, Prompto lowered his phone. He chewed his lip as he considered the waterfall, another idea beginning to take root. He was sure Ignis would say no, but they were already doing silly things anyway, right? Might as well try. “Hey, um. What do you think about, uh…taking off your shirt and standing under the waterfall?”

Ignis coughed slightly and covered his mouth with his hand. “Are you, ah…quite certain?”

“You don’t have to,” Prompto backpedaled quickly, the blush creeping up the back of his neck. He should have kept his mouth shut, avoided the awkwardness. _Idiot!_ “It was just a thought. Don’t worry about it. Um. Oh, hey, what’s that over—”

“It’s all right.” Ignis took hold of Prompto’s elbow before he could fully turn away.  “I’ve just…never had someone request something of that nature before.”

Prompto grinned up at him and went for what he hoped was adorably cocky in an attempt to cover up his own embarrassment. “I’d hope you haven’t. I’m the best photographer you know.”

Ignis’ eyebrows quirked up and his lips twitched. “Are you, now?”

“I better be,” Prompto shot back with a laugh. He stood on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to Ignis’ cheek. “You’re my boyfriend; you’re supposed to be biased toward me.”

“I was under the impression you wanted to wait until after the date to make that decision,” Ignis said, surprise clear in his voice.

Prompto shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. He wasn’t entirely certain when his brain had started using “boyfriend” to describe Ignis, but it just felt so natural that he couldn’t really argue about it. Well, he could, but trying to argue about it only made things more confusing and threatened to freak him out again, so he was trying really hard not to. “I guess I already made up my mind.”

Ignis studied his face for a long moment before taking a half-step closer, cupping Prompto’s face in his hands, and kissing him hard.

Prompto’s startled yelp was muffled by Ignis’ lips, and he quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands curled into the lapels of Ignis’ jacket, yanking him even closer until they were pressed flush together. He pressed into the contact, his mouth hot and needy against Ignis’ as their tongues danced.

“Perhaps you’d care to join me under the waterfall?” Ignis breathed against Prompto’s lips several moments later. His hands had somehow found their way down to the small of Prompto’s back and one was inching even lower. “Cool down a bit? It is quite warm here.”

Prompto blinked at him in a daze. Join him under the waterfall? That meant no pictures. But it also meant there might be more kissing. Yeah…that seemed like a fair trade-off. He’d already gotten enough photos to cycle through them on his lock screen for a month.

Of course, it wasn’t until Ignis pulled away and shrugged out of his jacket that Prompto realized joining him under the waterfall would mean taking off his own shirt, and maybe even more. That thought tightened his throat. What would Ignis think of the stretch marks from when he was younger?

He told himself he was being an idiot. If Ignis didn’t care about the barcode and being an MT thing, why would he care about stretch marks and old scars? He could do this. He _wanted_ to do this. But that didn’t stop him from turning away before pulling off his vest and tank top, then yanking off his boots.

Ignis was shirtless and barefooted when he turned back and it took all of Prompto’s self-control not to stare like an idiot at the sexy, defined muscles. Apparently he didn’t do a very good job of not staring, because Ignis cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his torso to hug himself, a slight blush staining his high cheekbones. Prompto bit his lip as he realized they were standing in the exact same pose—apparently, they were both embarrassed of the way they looked, even though Ignis had absolutely no reason to be.

Instead of blubbering like an idiot about how hot Ignis was, Prompto swallowed hard and forced his arms down. He took a hesitant step forward and reached for Ignis’ hands, giving his boyfriend a shy smile. “Let’s go.”

The river was colder than Prompto had anticipated as they stepped in, hand-in-hand, and he forced back a shiver. Maybe this hadn’t been a great idea after all. Too late now.

They carefully waded their way toward the falls, the moss-covered rocks beneath their feet freezing and slick.

Ignis’ hand tightened ever so slightly on Prompto’s and he yelped as he tumbled into the cold water, yanking Prompto down with him.

As they surfaced, spluttering and pushing sopping hair out of their faces, Ignis gasped, “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

Prompto giggled despite himself and wiped river water out of his eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Well enough,” Ignis admitted with a sheepish little smile.

“Good.” Prompto was starting to realize that Ignis looking self-conscious or shy or sheepish was going to be his biggest weakness. It just made him want to kiss Ignis _so badly._ So he did. He leaned forward and smashed his lips against Ignis’ once more.

In the end, the date wound up being quite a bit more about sex than Prompto had anticipated. It was all fumbling hands and questing mouths—not at all how he’d imagined getting intimate for the first time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t totally amazing.

They wound up racing the setting sun back to Lestallum, laughing and far more relaxed than when they’d set out.


	19. The Blur of Firelight

They left Lestallum late the next morning, Iris squished in the back of the Regalia between Gladio and Noctis. Prompto spent a good portion of the first part of the drive kneeling in his seat and chatting happily with Iris and Gladio as Noct dozed and Ignis focused on the road. He showed her some of his favorite photos from his date—only the ones where Ignis was still fully-clothed—and they chattered happily about moogles and chocobos and what they might find in Cape Caem until Ignis demanded that Prompto sit in his seat properly.

It was a relief to climb out of the car and stretch when Ignis finally pulled over outside Malmalam Thicket. Even fighting monsters felt strangely good, despite the scary forest. After the second Imp ambush, Prompto realized that this was the first time he and Ignis had fought something besides MTs together since that awful mission at the base. When they weren’t worried about him freezing up or following the enemy’s orders, the two of them really did make a good team. They watched each other’s backs a little more closely than they had before, and once Ignis even lifted Prompto up to get a better shot through the foliage.

It felt so good, in fact, that Prompto was whistling to himself as they filed into the Haven late that night, the sound of water rushing nearby an odd comfort. He helped Ignis set up the camp stove and cook dinner, sneaking kisses and little touches when he thought no one was looking.

“So you two are dating now, huh?” Iris asked innocently as she stood beside the little prep table, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

Prompto spluttered, his cheeks going hot.

“Indeed,” Ignis said smoothly, just as calm and collected as ever. He flashed a small, secret smile at Prompto, though, and continued chopping mushrooms for dinner.

Iris grinned at them, looking very much like her brother for a moment. “That’s great. You two are cute together.”

“Thank you, Iris. Would you mind passing me the garlic?” Ignis glanced up as he adjusted his glasses.

Eventually, Prompto managed to collect himself enough to actually engage in the conversation without completely tripping over his own tongue. The three of them cooked together as Noct and Gladio talked quietly on the other side of the Haven. For all that they were camping in the middle of a terrifying, dangerous wilderness, Prompto felt happier and more at peace than he had in weeks, with the exception of yesterday’s private excursion with Ignis.

Reality came crashing back in once they were all settled in their camp chairs with dinner and Ignis gave Prompto a lingering, calculating look.

“What?” Prompto asked nervously, poking at his risotto with his fork.

“There’s still a conundrum we haven’t solved,” Ignis replied carefully. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he studied Prompto. “If you’re up to it, perhaps we might try a new tack with your dilemma?”

“What dilemma?” Iris asked around a mouthful of rice and mushrooms.

Gladio smacked her shoulder gently. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You know better.”

She gave him an exasperated glance but pointedly snapped her mouth shut.

Prompto shoved risotto around on his plate, pushing it into little mounds and splatting it back down with the back of his fork. It had been hard enough to tell his friends, but telling Iris felt like a whole other problem. She was fifteen, and had looked up to him and Noct and Gladio and Ignis for ages. Prompto had never had someone look up to him before, and he was afraid that telling Iris he was a Niff would break her heart and ruin their relationship. Especially since the Niffs were the ones who killed her father back in Insomnia.

“Prom got hypnotized,” Noctis said, an instant before the silence grew uncomfortable and awkward. He carefully picked a mushroom out of his rice and tossed it onto Gladio’s plate. “Weird new thing the Niffs can do, I guess. Anyway, he’s got to do anything he’s ordered to do until we figure out how to stop it.”

Iris’ eyes widened and she leaned forward. “That sounds awful.”

Prompto shot his friend a grateful, relieved glance. Pretending to be hypnotized into following orders was way better than admitting the truth right now. “Yeah. It’s kinda a pain.”

“It’s rather inconvenient,” Ignis agreed mildly. “I’d prefer to find a solution, even if it’s imperfect, before we board for Altissia, if at all possible. We don’t know what to expect once we’ve left Lucis.”

“Won’t it wear off eventually?” Iris asked, squinting through the firelight at Prompto.

Prompto shrugged as casually as he could. “No clue. But since it hasn’t yet, probably not.”

“I’ve some new ideas to attempt to counteract the effects, if you’re willing to give it an attempt.” Ignis carefully balanced his mostly-empty plate on his knees and reached over to take Prompto’s hand, squeezing gently.

Prompto squeezed back. He really didn’t want to lift his arm a zillion times again, but he knew Ignis was right. They needed to figure this out, preferably before they sailed into whatever mess was probably waiting for them in the Empire’s territory. “Yeah. Okay. Um. After dinner, I guess?”

“After dinner it is.” Ignis nodded and, keeping eye contact, gently lifted Prompto’s hand to his lips.

Prompto was quite sure he suddenly looked like a tomato. They’d never been explicitly romantic in front of the others before. He braced himself for a sound teasing from Noctis as Ignis released his hand.

Shockingly, the teasing never came. As a matter of fact, Noct seemed to be suddenly very interested in hunting down and removing every last mushroom from his risotto.

When they’d all finished eating and Noct and Gladio had taken the dishes down to the water to wash up, Ignis scooted his chair a little closer to Prompto’s. “Shall we use the same test phrase as previously?”

Prompto groaned. “Can we try something else? My shoulder’s still sore from last time.”

“Is there something you’d suggest?” Ignis asked gently, his eyes searching Prompto’s face.

“Can I help?” Iris leaned forward in her chair, fidgeting with the moogle charm on her bracelet.

Ignis glanced at her a moment, considering. “I’m not sure yet.”

She nodded. “Okay. Well…I’ll be here if you can think of anything.”

“Much appreciated.” Ignis turned back to Prompto and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Any ideas, darling?”

Prompto hummed thoughtfully as he searched Ignis’ face. What was some small, innocuous action Ignis could order him to do that wouldn’t wind up making him sore if they kept failing? There had to be something easy and painless, right? Maybe even something fun, if he was really stretching. “I don’t know, Iggy. Hold my breath for five seconds? Kiss you? Blink three times? Sing the _Hello, Moogle_ theme song?”

“Do you even know the lyrics?” Ignis asked with an incredulous little chuckle.

“I used to.” Prompto wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend.

Iris giggled.

“As much as I would enjoy kissing you,” Ignis said after a moment, “I believe I would prefer to avoid associating a pleasant activity with such an unpleasant circumstance. Shall we use summoning and dispersing your pistols for now?”

“Sure.” Prompto gave him a weak smile. He hadn’t expected Ignis to take the kissing suggestion seriously, anyway. He wasn’t even sure why he’d offered it. But this was safer. “Um. What am I starting with to try and stop it this time?”

Ignis tilted his head in Iris’ direction. “Let’s start by attempting to see if initial distraction delays response time in any meaningful way.”

Prompto blinked at him, but nodded slowly and turned to Iris. Of course, now that he had to talk to her, he couldn’t for the life of him come up with a topic of conversation.

Lucky for him, he didn’t have to. Iris grinned and asked, “how long have you been dating Iggy?”

“Officially? Uh. A day.” Prompto was ridiculously proud of the fact that he managed to say it without sputtering like an idiot. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still blushing.

“Have you kissed yet?”

He nodded sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. A lot.”

“Order: summon and de-summon your primary arms. End order.” Ignis’ voice cut into the awkward conversation like a knife.

Prompto bit his lip as his wrists twitched without his conscious command, his pistols appearing in a flash of blue light. They disappeared as quickly as they had come and he slumped back into his camp chair.

Ignis hummed thoughtfully and the experimentation began in earnest.

They tried some of the same things they’d tried in the car a few days ago—plugging his ears, humming loudly—but they failed just as miserably as they had the first time. Then Ignis suggested other ways to try and keep Prompto’s mind occupied on things other than the orders: reciting his Crownsguard oaths silently or aloud, counting his breaths, imagining chocobos.

Surprisingly, squeezing his eyes shut and imagining chocobos seemed to have some sort of effect. Prompto was able to sit completely still for the span of several heartbeats before his wrists finally twitched to summon his guns. That was way better than the immediate response of the previous attempts.

“Again,” Ignis suggested, leaning forward eagerly. “Really focus, Prompto. See the birds in your mind. Hear them.”

Prompto nodded and sucked in a breath. He screwed his eyes shut again and focused hard on chocobos: the soft feathers, the shrill _kwehs_ , the hard leather of a chocobo saddle, the scratch of their talons against the ground. As Ignis gave the order, Prompto couldn’t help but remember that night they went riding in the rain together: the feeling of Ignis leaning over him as the chocobo leapt forward, the cold rain splattering in his face, Ignis’ laughter.

The delay before summoning his weapons was even longer this time.

“It’s working,” Prompto gasped when he opened his eyes again. He stared up at Ignis, his chest tight, and tried not to smile like an idiot. They’d found something! Sure, it might not work completely, but if thinking about chocobos delayed following the order long enough for his friends to get to safety…well, that was something, wasn’t it? “I can’t believe it’s working!”

“What’s working?” Gladio asked as he and Noct returned with armloads of clean dishes.

“It would appear we’ve found the beginning of a solution to Prompto’s problem,” Ignis announced, though his tone was more thoughtful than excited.

Noct set his load of dishes on the little table beside the camp stove and grinned at Prompto and Ignis. “Seriously? That’s great! What is it?”

“Chocobos,” Prompto announced with an incredulous little laugh.

Gladio snorted as he grabbed the box they kept the dishes in and began to load the plates inside. “Why am I not surprised? You’re obsessed with those things.”

“They’re cute!” Prompto protested. He looked back to Ignis. “Let’s try again. Please? I want to see how long I can hold out.”

Ignis nodded and maintained eye contact as he muttered, “Order: summon and de-summon your primary arms. End order.”

Prompto didn’t close his eyes this time, but desperately clung to thoughts of the chocobos. Racing chocobos with Noct. Grooming their feathers. Feeding them gysahl greens. _Chocobos._

Maybe it was because he’d kept his eyes open, but the delay lasted only as long as the first one.

Prompto cursed under his breath as the pistols disappeared again. It had to work, damn it! He had to make this work. It was their only chance. “Try again.”

Ignis frowned, but complied.

Again, Prompto managed to hold off summoning his guns for a few heartbeats.

“Maybe it isn’t the chocobos,” Iris said quietly as Prompto groaned in frustration.

Gladio rested his hands on her shoulders. “What’re you thinking, Moogle?”

Iris chewed on her lip for a moment, glancing between Prompto and Ignis. Finally, she looked up to her brother. “What if it’s just because he’s thinking about something he loves?”

“Hmm. Good thought.” Gladio frowned thoughtfully down at her, chewing on his lip in a mirror image of his sister. “If that’s true, maybe stronger feelings give him more time before the order takes hold.”

“Maybe!” Iris chirped, turning back to Prompto with a grin. “Worth a shot, right?”

Prompto stared at them. Something he loved. He did love chocobos an awful lot. But he also loved photography, and the stars at night, and playing video games with Noct, and everything about Ignis. Would it work to think about those things, too?

“I don’t know if Prompto loves _anything_ more than chocobos,” Noctis teased, poking Prompto in the shoulder.

Prompto swatted the prince’s hand away playfully. “Come on, Noct, I’m not _that_ bad.”

Noctis gave him a dry look. “Your ringtone has been that terrible commercial for the Chocobo Post for as long as I’ve known you.”

Prompto stuck his tongue out at him in reply.

“It’s a sound theory,” Ignis muttered, adjusting his glasses. “Shall we give it an attempt?”

“Huh?” Prompto glanced back at his boyfriend.

“Think of something else you love when I give the order,” Ignis reminded gently. “Something you perhaps love more than chocobos.”

The back of Prompto’s neck heated with the blush. He knew what he loved more than chocobos. It was just too embarrassing to say it aloud. “Um. Yeah. Okay. Let’s go.”

This time when the order came, Prompto closed his eyes and thought about Ignis: the smell of Ebony that always hung around him; the way he kissed Prompto’s hand over that cafe table in Lestallum; the feeling of his arms holding Prompto close; the gentle circles he traced on Prompto’s back to get him to calm down in that motel bathroom; his smile; his laugh; his kisses. Just _Ignis._

His heart swelled and he couldn’t help the stupid smile. Yeah, he definitely loved Ignis more than chocobos. Way more.

“How long’s it been?” Gladio’s voice asked breathlessly.

“Nearly a minute,” Ignis replied, just as quietly.

“So it worked?” Iris whispered.

Cloth rustled softly at Prompto’s right. Probably Noctis shrugging.

Slowly, Prompto opened his eyes. The moment his concentration wavered away from thoughts of Ignis, his pistols flashed into his palms. But it didn’t really matter. He’d managed to stave off the order for a full minute. That was more than enough time for the others to get out of range. Or put him down. And if it was dependent on his concentrating, he might even be able to make it longer if he tried hard enough. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt so light he thought he might float out of his chair. _He could stop mindlessly following orders!_

“It would appear your theory has merit, Iris.” Ignis reached over to take Prompto’s hand again. “A working theory certainly puts my mind at rest.”

Gladio grunted in agreement.

Prompto squeezed Ignis’ hand and smiled weakly. “I just hope it wasn’t a one-time deal, you know?”

“We’ll experiment more once we reach Cape Caem,” Ignis promised quietly. “But I believe that was quite enough for one evening. You look exhausted, darling.”

Prompto nodded. He probably looked more tired than he felt, with the excitement of finding something that actually _worked_ still coursing through his veins, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to stop practicing and curl up with Ignis. In fact, he pulled himself out of his camp chair, shuffled the two steps to Ignis’, and plopped gracelessly into his boyfriend’s lap.

Ignis huffed in surprise, but shifted and wrapped his arms around Prompto, holding him close.

Iris made a soft little “awww” noise, followed quickly by a squeak as Gladio plucked her out of her chair and tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder. “Gladdy!”

“What?” Gladio asked innocently, jostling her a little. “You’re gonna help me find the celebratory chocolate in all our mess.”

“Put me down!” She yelped with a laugh, beating lightly on Gladio’s back as he carried her toward the tent, apparently unfazed by Iris’ antics. “I’m not a kid any more, Gladdy!”

Prompto giggled and snuggled closer to Ignis as Noct dropped into his abandoned chair.

“So,” the prince said as Iris’ playful shrieks morphed into the sound of the Amicitias wrestling behind them, “What’d you wind up thinking about?”

Prompto groaned and pressed his face into Ignis’ shoulder, even though he knew it wouldn’t help hide the blush at all. He mumbled Ignis’ name, his voice muffled by shirt and skin.

“Didn’t catch that.” Noct’s smirk was evident in his tone.

Prompto lingered a moment with his face against Ignis’ shoulder, taking a deep breath of the scent of Ebony and sweat and their dinner. Then he forced himself to sit up, look his best friend in the eye, and proclaim, “Ignis.”

Ignis made a soft little strangled noise. “Really?”

Prompto glanced at him with a sheepish smile. “Um. Yeah.”

For a long moment, they sat perfectly still, studying each other’s faces inches apart.

Ignis’ hand reached up to gently cup Prompto’s cheek and Prompto leaned into the contact. Voice barely more than a breath, Ignis whispered, “I love you, too.”

Then they were kissing—a soft, gentle brush of lips and a slow, sensuous dance of tongues.

“How many times do I have to remind you guys the order was to be disgustingly happy where _I can’t see it_?” Noctis asked teasingly when they finally broke apart.

Prompto just grinned stupidly and rested his head against Ignis’ chest. Not even his best friend’s teasing could bring his mood down now. They’d found a way to overcome the stupid MT programming, at least temporarily, and Ignis loved him back, and he’d just had probably the best kiss of his life. Noct could tease him all he liked.

“Apologies, Highness,” Ignis muttered, though he didn’t sound particularly apologetic.

Noctis rolled his eyes and shifted in the camp chair. The firelight danced and blurred over skin, accenting a dark spot peeking up from the collar of his shirt.

“Noct?” Prompto asked without lifting his head from Ignis’ chest. “What’s up with your neck, dude?”

For the first time that Prompto could remember, Noctis actually blushed. The prince yanked his shirt up. “Nothing.”

“Ah. That would explain why the dishes took longer than anticipated.” Ignis’ chuckle was a soft vibration against Prompto’s cheek. “I trust you and Gladio enjoyed yourselves?”

Prompto’s eyes widened and he sat up again. “Really? When were you going to tell me, man?”

“Uh, never?” Noctis suggested, slumping into his chair and glaring half-heartedly at Ignis. “It’s not a big thing. Can’t be.”

Prompto wanted to protest that, obviously, true love did actually conquer all and that Noct and Gladio could totally be happy together if they wanted to be. But he kept his mouth shut. Noct seemed like he really didn’t want to talk about it, and Iris and Gladio were coming back to the fire with chocolate and beer.

Well, Prompto supposed as he took the can and chocolate bar offered to him, Noct and Gladio were grown men. They could look after themselves.

Prompto had a celebration to focus on, after all.


	20. The Blur of Love

For the rest of the ride to Cape Caem, Prompto sat in the back with Iris and Noct. The three of them kept testing the limits of Prompto’s new semi-control to entertain themselves. Iris or Noct gave increasingly ridiculous orders—anything from squawking like a chocobo to taking off his left boot to braiding Gladio’s hair—and Prompto focused very hard on Ignis, though he learned after the first time not to think about that day at Callatein's Plunge. Thank the gods neither of his friends had noticed him shifting uncomfortably after that.

Generally, he managed a good minute to minute and a half before he lost concentration, or the urge to follow the order became simply too strong to ignore. Now and then, he’d even manage to hold out a little bit longer out of sheer stubbornness. He always felt particularly proud of those attempts.

By the time they reached the Cape around sundown, Gladio had six tiny braids in his hair, Ignis was wearing one of Prompto’s bracelets (though not the one that covered his barcode; Noct had been very specific about which bracelet to hand over, thank the Six), Iris and Prompto had played three different clapping games, and Prompto was sitting completely barefoot in the backseat as he flipped through his new selfies he’d been ordered to take.

The lighting and framing in most of them were downright awful, but he saved a handful for the entertaining memories anyway.

Prompto was doubled over, pulling his socks and boots back on, when Ignis turned the Regalia’s engine off. The wind smelled like the sea—salty, fresh, with an undertone of something rotting—and it reminded Prompto of their stay at Galdin Quay.

Anxiety curled in his gut at that thought. Galdin had been fun and laid-back until they got the news about the Crown City. He seriously hoped Caem wouldn’t be a repeat performance. He finally felt like he had his feet under him again. More bad news might throw him off-balance for good.

Iris pulled Noct out of the car and the two of them and Gladio raced up the hill to greet Cindy, leaving Ignis and Prompto with the car.

Prompto took his time lacing his boots up, chewing on his lower lip as he tried desperately not to worry about what sort of bad things might happen while they were here in Cape Caem. It couldn’t be as bad as Insomnia getting destroyed or finding out he was an MT. There wasn’t a whole lot further down to go than that. Right?

“Are you all right?” Ignis asked quietly.

Prompto glanced up, an automatic smile in place. How many times over the last few weeks had Ignis asked if he was all right? Couldn’t he just stop worrying his boyfriend for, like, ten minutes? “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just worried about the wind and my perfectly-styled hair.”

Ignis looked torn between smiling and expressing concern. He opened the car door and offered a hand to help Prompto out. “I’m certain your hair will make it out alive. Shall we?”

Instead of getting out of the car immediately, Prompto took Ignis’ hand and brought it to his face, nuzzling into the gloved palm for a moment. Maybe it was silly, but he found it comforting—the feeling of Ignis’ hand against his cheek, and the smell of the leather with an undertone of the coffee he’d spilled earlier helped ease the tension out of Prompto’s shoulders a little.

Before Ignis could ask if he was all right again, Prompto flashed him a bright grin and slid out of the Regalia. He rolled his shoulders and stretched expansively. They were in Cape Caem, getting ready to board a secret boat. The sea air was sweet and refreshing, and the terrain would lend itself to some amazing photos when the sun dipped just a little lower. He could at least pretend nothing bad was going to happen, even if he didn’t completely believe it.

“Come on, Iggy. They totally left us behind!” He grabbed hold of Ignis’ hand again, kicked the door shut behind him, and dragged Ignis up the hill after the others.

Monica had dinner ready for them when they arrived at the little cottage and they ate all together in an unruly mass in the little dining room—the five of them, plus Cid, Cindy, Talcott, Monica, and a few others from the Cape. Prompto spent most of the meal chattering with Talcott about Cactuars and photography, one hand almost always twined with Ignis’. It felt almost normal, like having a family.

After dinner, they broke up into little groups: Noct and Gladio to one bedroom to talk, Ignis and Monica to the kitchen to clean up, and Prompto took Talcott and Iris outside to teach them the basics of photography before the light faded completely. They hung around the lighthouse, passing the camera around and pointing out cool shots to each other, until Cid barked at them to get out of his way so he could work. Prompto wound up carrying the sleepy Talcott all the way back down the hill to the little house, his camera slung around his neck.

Ignis sat at the dining room table with a book when the trio returned. He glanced up as the door opened and smiled gently. “I see you tired him out effectively. Well done.”

Iris giggled. “Yep! Prompto was teaching us how to use his camera.”

“Was he?” Ignis’ gaze shifted back to Prompto, his eyes soft and loving.

Heat crept up the back of Prompto’s neck and he grinned back, adjusting his hold on the heavy ten-year-old. “I’ll show you some of the shots they got in a few, if you want. Just let me tuck Talcott in.”

“Certainly. I’ll meet you upstairs, shall I?” Ignis slipped a bookmark between the pages of whatever he was reading and stood, tugging his jacket into place.

Prompto mumbled an agreement and turned away before Ignis noticed his blush at the thought of a room alone with just the two of them. He carried Talcott to the room he was apparently sharing with Iris for the moment and set the kid in the bed.

For a moment, a pang of sadness hit him as he pulled the blankets up around Talcott’s shoulders. Prompto’s parents had never tucked him in like this. They’d never been around for him at all. And now Talcott was alone, too. At least he’d be safe here, right? That was something, at least. Assuming Prompto’s bad feelings didn’t come true before they left.

Quietly, trying to shake off the sudden melancholy, Prompto climbed the stairs to the bedroom he was sharing with Ignis. The first time they’d have their own room since they started dating. It probably shouldn’t have been as embarrassing as it was.

He pushed the door open, slipped inside, and silently closed it behind him.

The room was tiny and sparsely furnished, dominated by the large bed shoved up against one wall. Across from the bed, another door sat propped open, letting the sea breeze into the room to ruffle the old, blue curtains. After the glitz of the Leville and camping in Malmalam Thicket, Prompto found it comforting, even though Ignis was nowhere to be found.

Prompto dropped his camera on the bed, padded across the room to the balcony door, and pulled it open wider. “Iggy?”

“Here.” Ignis turned from the balcony railing and smiled, offering his hand.

Prompto grinned back and stepped out of the bedroom, twining his fingers with Ignis’. “Hi.”

Instead of replying, Ignis leaned down to kiss him gently.

Prompto pulled his hand away to slide his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, pressing them close together.

When the kiss finally broke, they simply stood there for a long moment, staring at each other like lovesick idiots.

The stars sparkled in the frames of Ignis’ glasses, moonlight gilding his high, gorgeous cheekbones with silver-blue light. Far below, the ocean pounded against the cliffside in time with Prompto’s heartbeat.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he whispered despite himself.

Ignis chuckled softly, resting his forehead against Prompto’s. “I could ask the same thing, my dear.”

Prompto shook his head and laughed. “Lucky? To get stuck with me? You’re crazy. I’m, like, half-convinced something’s going to explode while we’re here. You know…like in Galdin. Who wants to date a nervous wreck of a robot thing?”

“I do,” Ignis insisted, kissing him again. “Though I take umbrage that you refer to yourself as ‘a robot thing.’”

“Even though I’m an MT?” Prompto pulled back just enough to search Ignis’ face.

Ignis studied him in return for a long moment. When he finally spoke again, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “Prompto, darling, you may have been born in Niflheim as part of the Magitek initiative, but you are not an MT. You are capable of overcoming the orders. You feel so very deeply. And we’ve yet to meet a Magitek Trooper with a sense of humor. I have no doubt you’re utterly and completely human, my love.”

Warmth flooded Prompto in one huge wave and he threw himself at Ignis again, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. He couldn’t help it. Somehow, Ignis always knew exactly what he needed to hear.

Ignis’ arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, until Ignis shifted. “Ah. The Bow of the Clever is out tonight.”

Prompto peeled himself away from his boyfriend and looked up at the star-studded sky. He remembered the last time Ignis tried to point out the constellation to him, back at the Haven not far from Insomnia, before all hell broke loose. That time, he hadn’t had his contacts in and hadn’t been able to actually see the Bow. But now he could make it out, the stars that formed the crossbow string twinkling nearly directly overhead. “I see it. For real this time.”

Ignis chuckled softly.

Prompto turned his gaze back down to his boyfriend and was struck again both by Ignis’ beauty in the starlight and how damn lucky he’d gotten, to be dating Ignis after everything that had happened. This time, at least, his camera was close to hand. He could actually capture the moment instead of berating himself for missing it again.

“Stay right there,” he ordered, turning to duck back into the bedroom before Ignis could protest. He grabbed his camera off the bed, snatched up his tripod from where he’d dropped it with their bags earlier, and rushed back out onto the little balcony.

There was barely enough room to set up the tripod, but he managed somehow. He framed up the shot with just enough room to squeeze another person in beside Ignis, adjusted the exposure, and took a few test shots to make sure the lighting was okay. Then he set the timer and hurried to Ignis’ side, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and smiling at the camera lens.

Moments before the timer went off, Ignis gently took hold of Prompto’s chin and turned his face around to kiss him.

The shutter clicked, but Prompto barely noticed.

They kissed for another long moment before Prompto forced himself away and swatted playfully at Ignis. “You ruined my shot, you jerk.”

“I doubt that.” Ignis chuckled and gently brushed a lock of hair behind Prompto’s ear. His hands slid down Prompto’s arms to tangle their fingers together. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you warmed up, shall we?”

Just the words warmed Prompto up immensely, but he wanted something longer lasting than a blush. He grinned, smashed his lips against his boyfriend’s for another quick, hard kiss, and hastily packed up the tripod and camera.

 ---

When the “warming up” was finished, Prompto snuggled closer and rested his head on Ignis’ chest, listening to his boyfriend’s heartbeat.

“Prompto?” Ignis whispered, his fingers carding gently through Prompto’s hair.

Prompto hummed in reply and let his eyes fall shut. Ignis was _so warm_ and _so comforting_.

“Earlier, you mentioned feeling concerned something might…explode?” Ignis’ fingers continued combing through Prompto’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. After a moment, he sighed and continued. “I’ve had similar worries since we arrived. It’s…difficult to believe in normalcy or safety after the last few months.”

Prompto pulled away and propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Ignis. He gave his boyfriend a small, sleepy smirk. “Your pep talk could use some work, babe.”

“What I’m trying—and evidently failing—to say is that we cannot guarantee we won’t continue to be flung into terrible situations. In fact, I’m afraid it’s practically inevitable.” Ignis paused just long enough to reach up and cup Prompto’s cheek in his hand, his rough hand warm and gentle. “But it’s easier to face that inevitability, knowing you’re standing at my side.”

“Iggy…” Prompto’s cheeks heated again, but he leaned into the touch of Ignis’ palm as he searched his boyfriend’s face. Ignis was completely earnest. “You don’t mean that. I’ve caused so much trouble.”

Ignis shook his head against the pillow, mussing his hair even further. “I do mean it, my love. Every word.”

Prompto struggled for several long moments to find something to say in return. When nothing presented itself and he started feeling like an idiot for just staring at Ignis in silence, he swooped down for a long, lingering kiss.

He hoped it said everything his brain couldn’t: how much he loved Ignis, how relieved he was that they were together, how much he never wanted this to end.

“I love you,” Ignis breathed against Prompto’s lips as the kiss broke. “So much.”

“I love you more,” Prompto muttered in reply.

“I’m not entirely certain that’s possible.” Ignis smiled and kissed him again.

Eventually, they did manage to settle down to sleep. Prompto lay on Ignis’ chest again, one arm draped lazily over his boyfriend’s stomach, and couldn’t help but let his mind wander over the blur that had been their journey so far. Leaving Insomnia. Learning their home had been destroyed. Flirting in Lestallum. Following Noct around to collect the Royal Arms. Fighting literal gods. Riding chocobos in the rain. Finding out that he was an MT, and struggling to find a way to overcome whatever they’d done to him when he was a baby. Falling in love with Ignis, even as they were fighting. Realizing both his worst nightmares and his wildest dreams had come true.

When they’d left the Crown City for Noct’s wedding, Prompto had been deathly afraid of not only losing his best friend, but of betraying him by being some sort of Niff spy. He’d told Ignis as much, at the Haven that first week.

Now, he lay in a cozy bed in Cape Caem with the man of his dreams, exposed as a Niff, and happier than he’d ever been before.

Whatever happened in the future, whatever hell the Astrals had in store for them when they reached Niflheim, Prompto was, for the first time, certain they could make it. If they survived Titan’s wrath and Chancellor Izunia’s awful order to shoot Ignis—if they survived hoards of MTs, and crazy monsters, and shitty weather all at the same time—surely they could survive anything.

It was a weird feeling for Prompto, to be so certain of something. But he knew it, deep in his bones. Things were going to be rough for a while—until Noct had the blessing of the Six and had collected all the Royal Arms and Niflheim fell—but Prompto was absolutely sure that they could make it.

All he had to do was think about Ignis.

All he had to do was focus on love.


End file.
